My husband the stranger
by bra4goten
Summary: Harry and Hermione were married and in love. But when a friendly get together with friends leaves Hermione with a nasty bruise and no memory of her husband. It's up to Harry to help her through it and remember HH DG RL
1. Chapter 1

Hello guys, it's been too long since I've written anything so I figured it was time. Hope it all enjoy and please 

**Remember to review even if you bloody hate the thing. Thank you and on with the story.**

**Harry and Hermione were married and very much in love, that was until a friendly get together with friends **

**Led to an accident that left Hermione with a nasty bruise and no memory of her husband what so ever. Now **

**Harry has to convince her to open her heart to him and just remember…**

**Chapter 1 - A Friendly Get Together**

The field was captivating. Green hills stretched out for miles, brightened by the soft rays of the warm sun as they

slipped over the flowers and Hermione grinned. She was glad she had taken Neville's advice and decided to come.

Slipping her arms through Ginny and Luna's the three girls took off laughing in search of a perfect spot leaving the

Guys behind to bring all their things.

"Was that one of Molly's recipes?" Luna asked resting her head on Ron's shoulder. Before Ginny could respond, Ron groaned signaling Luna to look up.

"Harry, Draco, I sense pointless women talk coming on. How about that game of Quidditch?" he stood up clapping his hands.

"Your on" Draco smirked, following Ron's lead.

"You two go ahead. I'll just stay here, after all I don't mind women talk" Harry smirked when Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco shrugged "Suit yourself Potter" he said turning quickly to Ron and winked. "Come on Weasley, It works out. didn't really feel like waiting hours for him to catch the snitch."

Harry spit out his lemonade in shock "What?" he gasped.

"Face it Harry the git has a point" Ron smirked. "The what Weasley?" If Ron heard him he didn't show it.

Harry jumped up "I could catch the snitch in five minutes" he cried out.

Placing his hand on his chin Draco seemed to be pondering on his words. "Alright Potter, to be fair I'll give you six" he nodded gleaming inside. Yeah he had him now.

Narrowing his eyes in challenge Harry smirked "I only need four" he said.

Hermione laughed, they sure knew how to get to Harry and he fell for it every time. "Go show them Harry" she cheered as they headed down the field.

"Yeah Harry" whistled Ginny.

"Gin. Remember me" Draco growled.

Eyes widen in shock Ginny looked sheepishly, "You know I always cheer for Harry when it comes to quidditch. Old habits die hard."

"Ha, Ha" he said, choosing not to hide his sarcasm.

Harry couldn't help laughing at his friend's jealousy. "Thinks it's funny huh?" Draco asked him as they mounted their brooms.

Chuckling he nodded, "I would have to say yes".

Draco smiled, "Good, I'm glad. Now it's my turn to laugh. Since my wife seems to cheer for you, I don't want her disappointed. You have three minutes Potter."

Ron doubled over with laughter as Harry's face fell. But as soon as it fell, the fierce determination revived it's self.

"Watch and learn mate, watch and learn" Harry chanted slowing taking to the air.

The game went off with a blast as Hermione, Luna and Ginny kept their eyes glued on the game. Hermione gasped as Harry nearly missed the Bludger Ron sent toward him.

That was too close for comfort. She knew they would never purposely try and hurt one another but it still did nothing to calm her edgy nerves.

She never much cared for the game during their days at Hogwarts and was not surprised at all to find her feelings were still very much the same.

Shielding her eyes from the sun Hermione joined Luna in cheering when Harry dodged another Bludger. Harry grinned at Draco's attempt to slow him down. The fleck of gold caught his eye and he took off toward the Snitch.

He only had two minutes to nab the Snitch or forever be forced to live through all the taunting from Ron and Draco. His hand stretched out as he closed in on the golden object.

Harry almost had it in his grasp when "HARRY" Ron screamed and he gripped his broom to stop. He turned sharply to see Draco on the ground next to the girls and Ron dropping his broom and rushing to Draco's side.

Harry looked with confusion not knowing why they stopped the game until finally he saw. "Hermione" he whispered.

Hitting the ground he threw his broom to the side and slid on his knees to Hermione's side. "Harry she got hit by the Bludger" Ginny cried.

It was dark and Hermione was desperately trying to find some light. She could feel hands gently stroking her arms and face but she couldn't see whom it was.

Her eyes were trying to open, and she couldn't see. She could sense him; it was as if something inside wouldn't allow her to see the man whispering words of comfort.

He wasn't a stranger. How could he be? She knew who he was at least in her soul. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind he would be coming for her. Coming _to_ her.

Whoever he was, he was her soul mate, her heart. The one who she was to cherish above all, she could feel it somehow. But if her soul knew so well they belonged, why couldn't she see him?

Hermione strained, trying to turn her head, aching for a chance to get a better view, wanting to see this mystery man who stirred her senses.

She could hear sobs, so someone was crying? She couldn't figure out what happened and then something else cut into it. Another voice.

Something…. Someone…

Someone was calling to her. Hermione tried to listen, tried to recognize but the voice belong to a stranger, someone she didn't know.

"Hermione, please wake up. Honey please, just open your eyes. Just look at me. Please." She had to open to eyes to find out whom that desperate voice belonged to.

Hermione tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn't move. Her eyelids felt glued shut and her head was pounding. She was fighting to open them and began to panic.

The tears building up finally slid from her eyes and flowed down her cheeks and Hermione opened her eyes and looked up at the concerned faces of her friends.

It took her a second to focus on them. Ron. Draco. The emptiness she felt lifted a little as she recognized the familiar faces of her two friends.

And then she saw someone else…

Harry wasn't easily able to allow his emotions to overtake him, but the last few minutes every one of them seemed to battle for possession over him as he frantically tried to look over Hermione.

He had to do everything he could to assure he didn't lose her. He couldn't lose. He refused to lose her.

His very childhood, _correction_, his very existence was spent facing the most darkest wizard of all time, wondering if he would survive all the battles that fate seemed to place him into. It was dark times when one was forced to save the world while trying to keep ones self-alive in the process. Fear was always his companion.

But as Harry Potter kneeled next to his wife it suddenly hit him, he had never really tasted real fear before. It was vile and bitter on his tongue, worse than anything he ever tasted. It almost choked him.

It surely would have until she moved her head. Yes she was coming too finally. Thank god, he was surely indebted to god now and he didn't care. She was alive and that's all that mattered.

The next moment she was moaning and forcing her eyes to focus on her surroundings. Harry began to feel light headed and dare he say _giddy. _ He was only vaguely aware of the tears burning his eyes at what almost happened.

What could have happened he thought as it took a hold of his mind with a tightening grip.

Hermione tried to sit up and Harry almost smiled. That was his Hermione. She was a fighter. She just didn't have it in her to lie still even after a blow to her head. Harry placed a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"Don't try to sit up," he told her as his voice began to break. Damn she scared the hell out of him. Harry quickly looked over her again. There was a gash just below the chestnut brown hairline allowing the blood to trickle down her cheek and mix with her tears.

Luna wiped away her own tears as she tightly grasped Ron's shoulder in relief. "I don't understand what happened," she cried.

"It was coming toward us and Ginny and I ducked, but Hermione didn't move. It was almost as if she was frozen." She continued.

Ginny nodded, "Once I noticed I tried to pull her down but it was to late. I'm so sorry Harry," she sobbed turning into the safety of Draco's arms.

"She just sat there?" Harry asked dumbfounded. Ginny nodded softly. Now that Hermione was safe, he could feel his temper beginning to rise. If she froze he wanted to know why.

But he couldn't ask her questions yet, demanding to know what the hell she'd been thinking to not get out of the way. Not when she was just starting to come too.

So he bit back the questions that plagued his mind as best as he could turning instead toward Draco.

"Malfoy, wasn't there a first aid kit in the car?" he asked. Ron was already ahead of them both and returned from his car with some gauze and bandages.

"That gash looks nasty Harry" Luna gasped. "Try to stop the bleeding at least"

Looking around Harry found some left over napkins from lunch and applied them to the cut along with pressure. He sighed long and hard. She scared him, god did she scare him.

Now that she was finally conscious, Harry noticed his shaky feelings and his quickened heart rate, if he didn't love her so damn much, he would have rung her neck for not dodging the blasted thing.

_Hell _Harry thought looking over the gash once more _still might do it, just on principle._

Ron was still a little shaken up about his best friend and seemed to be unsure of what to do. Looking at his sister dubiously he handed her the gauze to give to Harry.

Ginny stepped closer giving Harry the gauze and dropped to her knees to grab Hermione's hand. She still looked really pale and it worried her.

"Is she going to be" she began to ask him.

"I'm okay Gin" Hermione cut in waving them all to give her some room. She couldn't understand why they were talking about her as if she wasn't really there.

She hated being fussed over, at least she suspected she did…Yes she did, she hated it a lot. Despite the pounding in her head she felt pretty okay.

Hermione narrowed her eyes to focus on the man standing to her left "Ron". She said the name out loud getting the feel of it on her lips.

The mist clouding her brain seemed to lift. Ron was her friend, one of her friends. Funny for a moment that she didn't remember that.

She could just imagine what he would say if she told him that. Tease her most likely. Ron and Draco seemed to thrive on teasing her without mercy as it was.

Upon hearing his name Ron let go of Luna and dropped to Hermione's side. "What is it, Mione?" he asked softly.

"Nothing" she told him. It took some effort to talk with the pounding in her head. "I just wanted to say your name"

The gang exchanged looks between each other. That was way to weird for Hermione, but then, she'd never taken a Bludger to the head before.

Hermione took a deep breath. The fierce pain in her head cut it off. Sitting up with a force, Hermione clutched her throbbing head with one hand.

Without being fully aware of whom it was she placed her free hand on strong arm, leaning against it as she whimpered with the pain.

"Easy" The same strong arms steadied her as she leaned closer to the safety of the owner. Whoever it was he sure did work out she noticed when her hand gripped his forearm.

"Don't try to sit up yet," the deep voice warned her. "We don't want you falling over and hitting your head again. I know it's hard, but even your head has a breaking point."

His humor veiled an undercurrent of concern. She tried to smile at his words and only succeeded halfway.

"Wow, she's not biting your head off. Damn Bludger must have done more damage then we thought," Draco teased then growled shooting Ginny a _what the hell_ look after she poked him hard in his side.

Hermione tried to turn her head and groaned as the simple movement made way for the pain. "What happened?" she asked Luna. "What am I doing here?"

"You where hit by a Bludger," Harry answered before Luna could. "You apparently froze when it came your way," he added.

"You probably did it to annoy me," Harry said. "Make some kind of point for safety in Quidditch I suppose." He shrugged.

Hermione blinked, her eyes burning as she looked at the man beside her in wonder. As if she was just noticed him for the first time. Not to mention she was hanging on to him as if it was essential to her survival.

Feeling a little uncomfortable she let go of his arm and placed some most needed space between them. What this man said didn't make sense. She sighed trying to collect herself as she wondered what this guy meant.

"Why would I want to annoy you?" Hermione asked him obviously trying to catch on.

Harry stood up and smiled down to her. "I've asked myself that for ten years. My only logical answer is that it seems to be a hobby of yours."

His smile dimmed slowly as he watched the frown form on her face. If Harry didn't know any better he would swear she didn't know what he was talking about. It was almost as if she was looking at him for the first time.

Harry's fear and uneasiness returned, though he couldn't put a name on it.

"I think that blow to your head might have succeeded in doing what none of us have. Make you speechless." Ron elaborated when she turned her chocolate brown eyes on him quizzically. Next to him Draco laughed.

Drawing her brow in annoyance "Fat chance Ronald," she said smugly as she raised her hand out to Ginny. "Gin help me up please," she asked her friend.

Ginny bent down to offer her hand but Harry stopped her. "I told you to lie down." He growled. _Why did she have to be so damn stubborn?_ He wondered.

If she had a concussion or worse, movement would surely make it worse. He was prepared to carry her through the Apperation to St. Mungo's if he had to. After what he just went through, he preferred it that way.

Rather than lie back down Hermione pulled her arm out of his reach. Who in the heck did this character think he was? "Why should I listen to you?"

Luna grinned as relief washed over her and she shook her head. "She's ba-ck."

Harry ignored her. His eyes were on Hermione's. "Because I'm making sense Mione, now lie back." He glanced at the napkin still plastered to her forehead and noticed the thin line of red appearing through.

"Your still bleeding." He told her. Turning back to look at Ron he sighed. "I think we should go to St. Mungo's right away."

"Right Harry. You should go ahead and we'll meet up with you in a few minutes." Ron agreed. Hermione was seriously scaring him a lot more than she ever did at Hogwarts.

"She needs to gather herself before you go apperating with her Harry" Ginny spoke up.

Harry groaned in frustration. He wanted to rush her away immediately but Ginny had a point. If Hermione wasn't up to the Apperation it could do her worse.

Wasn't he just saying movement was bad a minute ago to himself?

"Fine" Harry finally said. "I need to apply the gauze anyway. Ginny hand me the gauze"

Ginny moved from Draco's side and begin searching for the gauze. She could have sworn she put it down next to Harry but it wasn't there.

"Gin, I need that gauze now" Harry growled.

"I don't see it Harry. It was here a minute ago I'm sure of it." she sighed.

"Then look for it for crying out loud" He hollered. Ginny looked up clearly taken back. "I'm trying Harry" she spat.

Harry threw up his hands in disbelief "Try harder" he snapped.

Though he didn't often lose his temper with people, the near tragedy they had narrowly avoided had turned his patience to mush. Now his temper just flared easily.

Hermione gasped taking immediate offense to his behavior. Hey, who do you think who you are mister? Don't you dare yell at my friends…"

Hermione stopped her self mid sentence. "Just who are you anyway?" she asked him.

"What?" Harry looked at her expressing disbelief. Now what was this all about?

The question unsettled her a little as she tried to ignore the vague feeling she should know the answer to her own question. Hermione turned her head slightly and slowly licked her lips, preparing to repeat herself.

"I said, who are you?" she repeated.

Harry slowed willed himself to sit back down next to her and his emerald eyes fixed on her brown. "What do you mean, who am I?"

Luna, Ron and Draco all stared intently trying to understand what was unfolding between their friends. Even the gauze search was on hold, as Ginny stood mesmerized by Hermione's odd question.

Was this guy always hostile as apparently deaf? She sure would like to know what this guys poor family dealt with.

"Just what I said." Hermione slowly repeated the question for the third time. "Who are you? Are you a friend of Ron and Luna's?"

Harry had no idea what was going on with her, but because she had just given him the worst scare of his life he figured it was best to play along.

"Yes I'm a friend of Ron and Luna," he told her. "And a friend of Draco and Ginny too," he added for measure.

His answer made Hermione frown; she thought she knew most of their friends. Surely the ones they had in common. It was what made them feel like such a family.

But as much as she tried she just couldn't find any recollection of the worrying, dark haired man who seemed to think it his god given duty to help her.

Her head began to pound again but she shrugged it off. She studied his face, looking for some sort of recollection. "Then why haven't I ever met you before?"

Ron and the rest of the gang exchanged looks. Their unspoken question mirrored each other. What the hell was up with Hermione?

Harry Potter sat back studying Hermione's face. A face he long since memorized, every curve, every inch that was her beautiful face. All deeply fixed in his mind.

"We have met Hermione. We are quite close actually." The deep voice was fraught with significance.

Hermione shook her head. Met? She seriously doubted it. She would have remembered a face like that, even if she'd only seen it passing by.

Chiseled, stern, yet soft in a way and those dark emerald eyes. Beautiful eyes, an odd collection of planes and angles that somehow made the man absolutely handsome.

The total man is greater than the sum of parts, the vague thought echoed through her head, But handsome or not, that didn't give him the right to lie to her or play tricks on her. Especially when her brain felt like nothing more than Swiss cheese.

"No we haven't met" she insisted stubbornly shaking her finger at him.

Maybe some other time when his nerves where up to the task Harry would have been able to play along with what ever she was playing.

But not now, not when he had been to hell and back in what surely would have been the death of them both. He wasn't in the mood for it.

He reached out to touch her shoulder "Mione I don't feel like playing games hon." He sighed. "Gin the gauze" he called over his shoulder. But Ginny didn't move.

Her eyes seemed to rest on Hermione. This was not the same girl she met ten years ago. Something was seriously not right and Gin had to admit she was worried.

As her gaze went from her husband, to her brother and her sister in law she knew they agreed.

Hermione shrugged off Harry's touch like it burned her. What made him think he could touch her like that? As if he had a right to? And why in the world weren't her friends protesting?

Hermione felt weakness pass over her and she would have curled up in a ball if she could have, locking out everything. For a moment she had struggle just to remain consciousness again.

Yep she refused to surrender.

"Good" she said looking up. "I don't feel like playing games either." Her brown eyes locked on to the emerald eyes of the man trying to push his way into her life.

"My head feels like it's coming apart." She held it as if she was afraid it just might. "So, are you going to tell me your name or not?"

Concern overtook Ron and he kneeled down in front of his best friend. He fanned out the fingers of one hand before her face, ignoring her question to Harry.

"Hermione, how many finger am I holding up now?" he cried.

The pounding headache washed away any patience she might have had to spare. "Three" Hermione closed her hand over Ron's and pushed it aside.

"We all know it's as high as you can count. I don't want to play count the fingers with you, Ron. I want someone to tell me who this man is and why he's trying to boss everyone around."

Despite all the tension in the air, Hermione's comment made Draco laugh. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black." His eyes darted toward Harry.

Harry's face did look strained. He had always marveled at how Ron and Harry could go all through school with her bossiness and still remained sane.

Granted now that he was a friend of hers. He knew she actually wasn't too bad; she just cared too much about them. Seeing Ginny's angry scowl he sighed.

"Not that I mean to imply you're a kettle…" His voice trailed off, having nowhere to go.

Fear began to resurface, bringing with it an uneasiness that nipped at Harry. Draco's comment didn't even register. Harry stared at Hermione, at the woman he loved more than the allure of the free life he had earned with the defeat of Voldemort.

"You don't know who I am." It sounded absurd even to say out loud. After what they shared, he would have said that Hogwarts would crumple and become mounds of sand and blow away before she forgot him, or he her.

This had to be some kind of game, a cruel prank to get him back for something he must have done and only Merlin knew what.

"Yes" Hermione replied. But before he breathed a sigh of relief in misunderstanding, her next words took it away from him and cleared up the minor confusion while ushering in a complete new truckload.

"I don't know who you are." She said.

If she was playing with him over something he wasn't sure of he did, he was going to kill her. Slowly.

"You're not kidding?" He stated each word slowly, giving her every chance to recant. Praying she'd take it.

Because something deep inside her was suddenly afraid, afraid of what she couldn't understand, Hermione clung to temper.

Hermione touched her forehead "I'm bleeding. Why would I be kidding?" Why were her friends doing this to her? Why were they putting her through this crap at a time like this?

She looked from one to another, silently asking them to stop this madness. "Luna, Ginny, what's going on here? And how did I get here, in the field I mean, anyway?"

Everyone looked at each other, not knowing whether they were all victims of a lesson- Hermione wasn't above that- or if they should be seriously worried.

Hermione drew herself up to her knees, swaying just a little "I said, what's going on here?" She glanced from Ron and Luna to Draco and Ginny, and then her eyes came to rest on the stranger.

Sure her friends had played pranks on her before. It was how they lived through Newts and the very existence of childhood.

But Hermione had to say this was going a little too far now.

"Ginny, Luna, Ron," she turned her head to face each one. "Draco, One of you tell me. I want to know. Just who is this man?"

Well there u have chapter 1 please review. Chapter 2 up soon…


	2. What happens now?

**Well first off let me say thank you to all the people who reviewed Chapter 1 and I hope you continue to read and let me know what you think.**

**Please review good or bad. All feedback is greatly welcome.**

**Once again thanks again and on with the story.**

**Chapter 2- What happens now ?**

Harry stood speechless. Who is this man? Who is this man? The question seemed to replay over and over in his mind. Hell at this point he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Ron was the oldest, and as such, he was apt to take control of this situation. He looked at the woman he was fond of calling his best friend, although their constant squabbles over the last ten years would have to make one wonder.

He couldn't quite figure out where Hermione was going with this one. He still didn't quite have the whole S.P.E.W thing down.

One thing he did know was there were times when Hermione had trouble knowing when to stop. Thank god he had no problem stepping in when it came to that.

"Okay, Hermione quit fooling around now. You've had your joke and scared the hell out of the rest of us, including your husband." He said.

All she heard was that one word. One frightening word. Was she going crazy? Or was he? Knowing her friend, it was him. And she didn't appreciate being the butt of the joke.

"Husband." Hermione looked around angrily, deliberately _not_ focusing on the man to her left. "What husband?" she demanded.

"That's enough, Hermione." Ron was using his hard voice. It masked his growing uneasiness. Hermione wasn't normally such a convincing actress.

"My sentiments exactly, Ron" she retorted, getting to her feet. The pounding in her head increased and threatened to make her pass out. She sighed as she sank back down on the blanket.

"Now quit fooling around, guys." She put her hand to her head, as if it could somehow stop the headache that was consuming her. "I don't feel right."

Still in shock but refusing to step back, Harry took a closer look at the woman who had been the bane of his existence as well as the center of his universe for the last ten years.

What he saw worried him.

Harry wasn't comfortable in this frame of mind. Independent, handy, Harry had made his own way through his dreaded excuse of a childhood by merely surviving. Waiting day after day for that one chance to escape.

And that day finally came on his eleventh birthday, when Hagrid showed up claiming he was a wizard and a famous one to boot. It was the dream of a lifetime and Harry had recorded it forever as the happiest day of his life.

That was until he fell in love with Hermione Granger.

It was appropriately enough, at a party held by a professional quidditch player named Raphael Brock, the chaser for the team He and Ron just signed too.

The party was at Raphael's house. Which even Harry had to admit was a sight to behold. But nothing prepared him for the sight of Hermione draped in soft moonlight.

It took his breath away. It was in that moment when he realized she was his future. A gift from the Gods above. Fear and shock seemed to both fight for control of his soul.

It wasn't every day you fall in love with your best friend. Then she simply smiled that beautiful smile and everything stilled.

Looking back, Harry thought everyone should have a moment where the rest of the world faded away as the focus zoomed in on one perfect individual. The way he found himself focusing on his best friend Hermione.

At first, he admitted it to Ron and not to her, still a little unsure on how one approached the subject of love with a friend.

After many inward battles, Harry found it difficult to keep his feelings to himself and decided to break the news. Much to his surprise she reciprocated his feelings.

They'd had one hell of a courtship. He liked to think of it as two forces of nature coming together. There was no other explanation why the five-foot six woman had suddenly taken a much more dominant position in his life, when, from his early teens, he'd had his pick of any girl he wanted and had wanted none for the duration.

The way he wanted Hermione.

From that very day Hermione had pleasantly turned his life upside down. And nearly brought it to a halting stop just now, when he believed for several horrible minutes that the game he had come to treasure so much had claimed her from him.

Harry nerves were stretched to the limit. Kneeling beside her on the blanket, Harry took hold of his wife's shoulders, holding her down.

Anger flashed across her face as she attempted to shrug him off. And failed.

She was weak, Harry thought with concern. If she wasn't, Hermione could have easily hexed him away from her. She had an extraordinary talent when it came to charms.

"You don't remember me," he said, stunned by her statement.

_What if it's true?_ A nagging voice whispered inside his head. What if, for some awful reason, she couldn't remember him?

Hermione took a deep breath. What was going on here? And why did she feel as if she had to question her every thought? She couldn't remember how she got to this field. Or even why she came.

She tried to think back to the last thing she could clearly remember. Everything was a blur in her head, leaving her feeling like a foggy cloud.

Panic fueled impatience. She stared at the man crowding her. "No I don't remember you. Why would I lie?" she demanded.

"Because you're good at it. Not lying," Harry amended, "just at being stubborn. At proving points. And being a pain in the butt," he added, his own temper just about snapping.

One minute he was afraid she was dead, now she was pretending not to recognize him. His emotions couldn't handle this uneven roller-coaster ride. "This isn't funny, Hermione."

Anger was her only defense. Her face was deadly serious as she looked at this stranger who was intruding into her life like she shared it with him.

"No," Hermione agreed stiffly, "it's not." She looked to Luna and Ginny for help. Why were they humoring this guy? Why weren't they coming to her defense?

Fun was fun, but this was outright cruel.

"Granger, you've made your point but I think you should –" Draco began only to be waved back into silence by Harry.

"We've known her to get a little elaborate when she feels she needs to make a point, but even Mione couldn't fake that kind of pallor" Harry pointed out.

She looked as white as a sheet, he thought with increasing anxiety. And there was something in her eyes that had him coming to the unwelcome realization that his wife _wasn't_ kidding around.

She _didn't_ remember him.

Moving closer, Ron looked at his best friend. "You think she might have amnesia?" he asked.

Harry rose to his feet. Before he could reply, Draco snorted in disgust. "Weasley, you don't just forget one person if you have amnesia. It's not selective."

Hermione pulled on the hem of Draco's denim muggle shorts. "Hey, guys, I'm right here. Don't talk about me as if I were some inanimate object."

Her tone was angry, but inside she was beginning to give way to fear. A large, overwhelming, all encompassing fear because this was beginning to feel strange.

What made matters worse, tipping the scales in Ron and Draco favor, was that her brain really did feel as if there were holes running through it.

She folded her hands in her lap. No, not possible, she thought. Things like this didn't happen to her. Okay, so she couldn't remember the events of the morning. Couldn't remember how she came to be here, but those were just a few random events.

And there were all those facts and figures crowding her brain. It was only natural to forget a few things along the way.

Besides, Draco was right. You didn't just forget a whole person; at least not a significant one and husbands definitely fell under the heading of significant people. How could she forget a husband and nothing else?

This _had_ to be a prank. And once she got them to admit it, she was going to make them all pay for it. And Especially the man with the super serious expression.

"We need to take her to St. Mungo's," the man was now saying to her friends, talking again as if she had no more mind than the blanket she sat on. But at least he was making sense.

It was the first thing out of his mouth she actually agreed with. A healer would take care of the gash on her forehead, give her something for this awful headache and tell these bozos to quit yanking her chain like this.

"Yeah we should go now." Luna agreed. "I'm not sure she is okay." She added in a whisper.

"Good," Hermione declared in a voice she hoped didn't sound as shaky as she felt. "The faster we get this squared away, the better."

With superhuman will, she forced herself up to her feet again, and then mentally defied that woozy feeling to return. For the moment it seemed to stay back.

Hermione hands clenched at her sides, perspiration forming along her forehead, she managed to edge closer to Ron. She glanced back toward her so-called "husband" and saw that the man looked quite upset.

She quickly suppressed the feeling of concern; remembering he was apart of this prank on her.

"Ginny, you and Luna should apperate over there first and tell Seamus what happened and let him know we will be there." Harry said quickly.

Nodding Ginny took one last look at Hermione and was gone. Hermione clutched Ron's arm afraid to let go. Two of her friends were now gone and she felt uneasy.

Just as fast as the uneasiness settled it was replaced with suspicion. She could have sworn he just said Seamus. Oh yeah, she was sure of it. This guy seemed to know all her friends. They were really working this prank in full throttle.

Suspicion rose immediately. She didn't trust this guy as far as she could throw him.

"Did you just say Seamus?" she wanted to know. "As in Seamus Finnigan."

"The one and only" Harry replied sighing.

Her eyes widened. Without realizing it, she sandwiched herself between Draco and Ron. "You seem to be aquatinted with a lot of my friends." She said challengingly.

Harry was aware that both of his friends seemed really concerned now. That made three of them. He did his best to mask his. One of them had to look as if they weren't playing patty cake with panic.

"I know him, yes, Seamus happens to be my friend. Another mutual friend of ours." He told her as he took a step closer to her.

She flinched but didn't seem to notice it. Her actions cut him deep. "Not to mention he is the best healer at St. Mungo's." he added to assure her.

Her eyes met his. He saw a familiar look of courage there. It gave him hope, even if it was in his way at the moment.

"Or he's a "friend" willing to go along with whatever you tell him to say" she countered.

So her sense of paranoia was still intact, Harry thought. A cold shiver shot down his spine. He tried his best to ignore it. She was going to be fine. If this thing was on the level, she was going to be fine.

If this wasn't, the woman was dead meat.

"We'll be there for you," Draco assured her.

Hermione turned to look at him and he saw the fear in her eyes. So did Harry. He tried to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Harry leaned his head back and sighed. His head was starting to pound now thanks to the events of the morning. He could hear Ron and Draco talking to the girls as they all waited for word from Seamus.

He felt someone tap his foot. He didn't really feel like talking just yet but looked up anyway. Luna nodded looking toward the double doors.

His eyes flickered right and he spotted Seamus walking out.

He saw the man frowning as he made his way over. They'd been pacing in the waiting room; trying to convince one another that this was nothing more than one of Hermione's stupid lessons. Getting nowhere.

Seamus sighed once he reached his friends. He hated being the bearer of bad news, especially when it hit so close to home. These were his friends and it made it more difficult, and most regrettably personal.

"The good news is that she checks out just fine physically and she can go home." He began.

"And the bad news?" Harry pressed.

"The bad news," Seamus sighed, trying to say it as clinically, as painlessly as a healer and friend could, "Is that Hermione has been hit in the head with a Bludger Harry, and while there doesn't seem to be any evidence of severe damage, it has apparently brought on a bout of amnesia."

"A bout," Harry repeated. Many things happened in bouts. They came and went didn't they? He seemed to rally around the word.

"Which means that it'll go away." Harry silently willed his friend to confirm his conclusion.

Seamus took a deep breath, then said, "Probably."

"When?" Harry demanded before any one of his friends were able to ask.

Shaking his head Seamus sighed once more. His heart went out to all of them. He truly sympathized with what they were going through, especially Harry.

"If afraid that I can't really say. Amnesia is still a gray area for us Harry. We may have a head start on medical treatments, but we know no more than muggles do about it." Seamus said softly.

Harry felt his heart drop straight to his feet. No, this was not happening. " 'Seems', 'apparently', 'Probably'," he echoed in protest. "There's nothing definite here, Seamus"

"No," Seamus agreed, "There's not. Amnesia is quite an impulsive change of mind. There are no hard-and-fast rules yet. This could go away in an hour, a day, a month or…"

He let his voice trail off, not wanting to utter the word he was sure was the last thing Harry wanted to hear. _Never._

"An impulsive change of mind." Ginny repeated Seamus description, "That makes it sound like its all a prank." She said.

Seamus shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid not, Gin," he said.

Harry had to hold himself together now to keep from pacing. This just didn't make any sense to him.

"But Hermione can't just forget one thing and not everything else," he protested. And then that sick, sinking feeling had him adding, "Can she?"

"I know it sounds crazy," Seamus agreed, "But I'm afraid that she can."

"Selective amnesia?" Harry scoffed at the notion even as he fought to keep the panic. "How is that even possible?"

"Easier than you think, Harry, actually, it's all selective if you think about it. People with amnesia don't forget how to walk, how to talk. How to get dressed. They can tell you president's and dates."

Placing his hand on his shoulder for comfort, Seamus eyed Harry. "They forget other things, things like who they are."

"Okay, she knows all that. She just claims not to know who I am," Harry bit off, frustrated. He shrugged Seamus's hand from his shoulder, raking his fingers through his untidy hair.

Harry took a minute to collect himself and sighed. "So what you're saying is that it's possible to forget just one important part of her life. Me."

"Yes, it's possible." He assured him.

"Why?" Harry demanded. He hated this helpless feeling. He was a doer, not someone who enjoyed waiting. "Why would Hermione forget me and not them?"

"I wish I knew the answer to that Harry. I really do." Seamus told him honestly.

"Take a guess." It was hardly a suppressed plea.

Seamus blew out a breath. "There might be some underlining reason. The mind is still largely a huge mystery. It can repress memories; sometimes so much the person forgets they have them. Hermione's hit to the head triggered a response, allowing her mind to take action."

"And erase me." Harry spat bitterly.

Frowning slightly Seamus glanced at them all and back to Harry. "I wouldn't have put it exactly that way, but yes, erase you."

But that wasn't enough for Harry. He needed a reason, a good reason why his wife suddenly blocked him out of her mind.

"But why?" He looked at his friends. Along with concern, there was pity in their eyes. He hated being on the receiving end of pity. His anger began to rise. "There's nothing wrong between us."

"No explosive events recently you might not be thinking about?" Seamus addressed the question not only to Harry, but to all of them, as well.

"Hermione has always been explosive at times, when something means a lot to her. You know that Seamus" Ginny reminded him.

"But there hasn't been anything out of the ordinary," Harry insisted.

It wasn't strictly true. There was one argument, a minor one really, especially when you took into count it meant a lot to Hermione. She was usually far more vocal than she been over this one.

They'd had a difference of opinion over her getting pregnant. He wanted to wait, and she seemed intent on it happening soon.

The reason for his side was purely logical and perhaps a little selfish.

He wasn't really sure he could be a good father. Weren't children supposed to be showered in love? What did he know about love and children?

He didn't really have a caring childhood himself, how could he make sure he wouldn't repeat the Dursley's mistakes with his own flesh and blood.

She told him that he was overreacting, that he would do just fine by their children. But Harry wasn't quite so sure. He said as much and she backed away quickly enough. But she hadn't been happy about it.

The matter never came up again, so he just thought that couldn't be it.

Harry tried to think of anything else that might have upset her. Shrugging, he said, "She wanted us to go and visit my Aunt and Uncle, but I told her I was busy and she got a little upset with me. But you're not going to tell me that my wife decided to wipe me out of her mind all because I didn't permit a visit with the Dursley's."

Shoving his hands into his pockets looking sheepishly. "They're not the kind of people you'd put yourself out for." They weren't even the sorts you'd bother crossing the street for, he added silently, then shook his head.

"This can't be about that."

"Well whatever the reason be, she shut her mind down when it came to things about you. I'm not even sure if anything traumatic is really directly at the heart of this." Seamus said.

Harry was scared because he was actually starting to believe Seamus. "But you're sure Hermione doesn't remember me. This isn't a lesson or a joke."

The expression on Seamus face told him as much. And Harry's heart sank lower.

Giving Harry a small smile Seamus looked at Harry. "If it helps there was a case a few months ago, where a woman was involved in a accident. She hit her head and when she came to, she couldn't remember her husband. But she could remember everything else."

Harry was afraid to ask but did it anyways. "Did she get over it?"

"Yes." Seamus smiled.

Hope filled Harry's senses like a drug. "Then it will be okay."

"Every case is different Harry. There are no guarantees." Seamus warned him.

"Still not very optimistic are you?" Harry snorted.

Once again Seamus laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Most likely she'll come around."

_Most likely, _He wanted guarantees. "What do I do until then?" he whispered.

Seamus gave him an encouraging smile before he left to see Hermione again. "Be nice to her."

"Be nice to her?" Luna repeated in confusion. "That's his advice to you? 'Be nice to her'?" stunned almost beyond words.

Ginny could only shake her head. " I thought he could do more for her."

"No," Harry sighed. "He did what he could." Even as he spoke, he felt as if nothing around him was real. This couldn't be happening.

He and Hermione were the perfect couple. And they got that way by trusting each other and by simply loving one another.

No matter how hard or scary times seemed, there was always that to fall back on, the love they felt for one another. And now he was suppose to accept the fact that he was standing out there, alone?

That he loved her but she didn't love him because she didn't know him from any other stranger on the street? How the hell was he supposed to come to terms with that?

What did that do to their marriage? To their relationship?

Dang it, he had no frame of mind for this. Now idea how to cope.

"Sure doesn't look like he did everything he could," Draco countered in disgust.

"I think it makes sense," Ron sighed.

"What does?" Harry snorted.

"What Seamus said about being nice to Mione" He shrugged. "All you can do is be patient."

Ron put his hand up, stopping the words he knew had to be coming. "I know it'll be hard, but this has got to be a temporary thing."

Harry wished he could share Ron's bright side of things. But he learned to be a realist from early on; one who knew that sometimes the worst could and _did_ happen.

"And if it's not?"

Putting his arm around Harry he gave a small smile. "Now you see there's your problem, Harry. You can't think the worst. You have to believe. Just believe and before you know it Mione will be back to normal."

Although the smile stayed intact there was tremendous feeling behind his words.

"Yeah, and before you know it, you'll find yourself missing her not knowing you," Draco speculated.

Harry knew Draco was only trying to lighten the mood and he tried to smile but found the task to hard to achieve. No matter how hard this was going to become he was going to give up. No way he was going to give _her_ up.

Okay, he thought. This was going to be just another adventure in a long series of adventures. A little strange, but then again when had his life even been normal.

As long as he allowed himself to believe it he was going to get through this. They were going to get through this. _Together_.

"Seamus said Hermione could go home," Harry said aloud, more to himself than to his friends.

Ron nodded, thankful that they were able to have her to take anywhere. "Then let's go get our girl," he said.

Harry finally smiled, thankful for his friends support. He new that he could count on them for anything. Not just because Hermione was a friend, but also because they were all a family.

There were times when he found himself thinking how odd that felt. Ten years and he was still adjusting to the idea that he had more than himself to lean on. That he truly wasn't alone anymore.

As they made their way back to the curtained bed, Harry expected the fight between them to pick up where it left off. Hermione had called him a liar just before the curtain shut to allow her to change into a gown.

Words seemed to leave him as he looked at the woman who no longer remembered she was his wife. Harry couldn't remember ever seeing Hermione looking so small, so vulnerable as she did lying in that bed.

And yet she still looked defensive at the same time.

She was most likely scared. But then, who wouldn't be, in her position? Part of her memory had been whisked away. That would have rattled anyone.

Which was why she was so suspicious of him. Why she was _still_ suspicious of him, if that look in her eyes was any indication of the state of her mind.

This was going to take a hell of a lot of patience, he warned himself. More than he'd ever had to dig up before and with seven years of Voldemort, that was saying something.

Harry really hoped he was up for it.

You _have_ to be up for it, he told himself. The prize was far too important. And he had no intention of losing it.

"Seamus said you could go home now," Harry told her.

Hermione purposely looked at her friends. The less thought she gave of this joke of theirs, the better. Not that she wouldn't have been somewhat interested in spending time with this guy her friends dug up.

This man had definite potential, especially around the mouth and eyes.

His emerald eyes looked as if they'd invented the phrase about eyes being the windows of the soul. His looked like they were bottomless.

And his mouth- there was something sensual about his mouth even though, so far, she'd only seen it looking unhappy.

Or maybe her reaction to him was because his mouth was pulled back into a frown. This wasn't the time. She was letting her mind wander.

She had to keep her mind on her goal. Getting out of here.

"Good," she declared.

Hermione began to look around for her clothes. And then she thought of something. And she had the uneasy feeling she wasn't going to like the answer.

Figuring she was in search of her clothes, Harry bent down and grabbed the light green sundress. "Looking for this?" he asked tossing it to her.

Hermione took the dress mumbling a thanks she hardly registered herself. Looking at Ron she sighed. There was only one way to find this out, and she might as well get it over with.

"Um, Ronald, I can't seem to remember." She caught her lower lip in her teeth then continued. "Where do I live?"

Harry didn't wait for his mate to answer. "With me," he told her. "You live with me."

Hermione wasn't prepared for the wave of panic that washed over her. It almost took her breath.

"No I don't," she insisted.

"Yes," Ron said to her softly but firmly, "You do"

Luna was right there to back him up. "He's right, you do."

She quickly looked to Draco and Ginny and her heart fell when their nods confirmed what the others said.

She wanted to scream "No." To shout that the joke was over. But the fear that they weren't playing a trick on her seemed to fill her mind. That for whatever reason, part of her memory was gone.

"Guys, you're scaring me."

"No more than you're scaring us," Harry told her evenly.

She looked from one face to another; ending up with the man she wanted to believe was an impostor. Her eyes went back to Ron. Her throat was dry and she felt dizzy.

"Really?" she asked him, her voice barely above a whisper. She stared at her dearest friend of ten years, certain that if he was lying to her- the way she was praying he was- she could tell.

She could always tell when Ron was lying. He would turn bright red. "Really."

Ron wasn't turning red.

Hermione sighed realizing it very well may true. "Then why can't I remember?" she cried out looking at her friends. Ever since she could remember she fought for her independence.

She wanted to be taken seriously, but right as this moment, she wanted her best friend to take care of her. To make things right.

"Why can't I remember anything about him?"

His heart ached for her as he tried to make sense of all of this. Taking her hand, he kissed her fingertips. "We don't know, sweetie."

"Seamus said he doesn't even know," Luna added, as if it would somehow make her feel better. That she wasn't the only one who didn't understand.

"Guys, could you leave us alone for a minute?" Harry asked his friends.

Panic returned, as raw as ever. "No," Hermione cried, grabbing Ron's arm. She didn't want to be alone with this man. "Don't"

Very gently Ron peeled her hands from his arm. "We'll be right outside, Hermione," he promised backing away from her. A second later Luna, Ginny and Draco followed at his heels.

For a moment Harry stood in silence. It was killing him, seeing her like this. Ever since he'd known her, Hermione had always been vibrate, content, always sure of herself.

A few times during his fight with Voldemort, sure he'd seen her scared, but never as frightened as she was so visibly now.

And then it came- that look of defiance. Relief flooded over him, emotions all displaced. His Mione was in there somewhere and he was going to get her back, even if he had to drag her out, kicking and screaming.

It would be like old times.

"Well?" she demanded, doing her best not to let this man see her falling apart. She'd never been this scared…

Except that she had, she suddenly realized. Something just now, had flashed through her mind, a glimmer of memory moving so fast she couldn't hold on to it

All she held on to now was fear. But fear of what or who, when and why, none of this had any answers. Damn it she felt like a book with all the even pages missing.

Nothing made sense to her. Especially why she couldn't remember this man everyone claimed was her husband.

"We'll take this slow, Hon," He promised. "One day at a time"

He fought the urge to just grab her and hold her, never to let her go. But sighed knowing it was the last thing he should do.

God, he just had to bring her around. Had to make her remember their life together. And he didn't care what Seamus had said; he couldn't help but take this personally. She'd remembered everything. But him.

There had to be an underlying reason for that. The trouble was he wasn't so sure he was going to like the answer once he found it.

"And meanwhile," she said, "I'm supposed to come home with you."

"It's where you live." He pointed out.

Hermione frowned. That's what _he_ said, but how did she know for sure. If she were his wife, wouldn't she remember something, however deep in her subconscious?

If he really was her husband, the man she loved, would her mind really shut down, excluding him from every thought, every memory?

While she was being checked over and probed, she tried to summon any kind of memory with him in it. All she got was a blank wall.

Which led her to believe if _he_ was her husband, then he must have been a terrible one. There was no other explanation for her forgetting him.

Hermione sat up and sighed. "I can stay with Draco or Ron." Her tone was deliberately dismissive. On a whim she added, "Just until I remember you." She thought that would put an end to any argument he might have.

Harry put his hands in his pockets to keep from shaking her. "The familiar surroundings might make you remember faster," he finally told her.

"Why should they be familiar if you're not?" she countered.

He threw up his hands, then struggled to control his temper. Shouting at her wasn't going to help anything. This wasn't her fault. She was going through this with him.

But it was up to him to lead her back to him. How, he had no idea, but he knew he was going to. There was too much at stake to just give up.

"I don't have the answers here, Mione. Seamus doesn't even have the answers," he told her. " This is all new territory for me"

She raised her hand as if she were back in her potions classroom, trying to get professor Snape to call on her. "Let's not forget me here."

"I'm not forgetting you," he said so fiercely he knew he scared her. "Not for one damn second am I forgetting you. And I don't know why you seem to have forgotten me."

"Seem?" She echoed, her temper flaring at the word. She seemed to welcome the familiar feeling as if it was an old friend. This, this she could remember. Getting angry.

Having no fear over voicing her opinions. She was her own person if nothing. No matter who this man was or wasn't to her. She had to remember that.

"You think I'm faking this? That I'm pretending not to know you?"

For a moment he was silent. "Right now I don't know what to think" he finally shot back. "You're not above doing things to worry me for reasons that I could never fully understand. You-"

Abruptly he stopped himself.

This wasn't helping either one of them. Struggling to keep his temper in check, Harry blew out a breath. He didn't need this.

"Get dressed, Hermione. I'm going to take you home."

She clutched her dress, tossing her head the way he'd seen her do a hundred times before. Her long, brown hair flew over her shoulder. "No, you're not."

He leaned in close to her, his lips against her ear. "Yes," he said quietly, firmly, " I am."

His warm breath slipped along the curve of her neck and sent shivers down her spine. Something stirred in the distance, although she could not put a name on it.

She dropped it.

Although she didn't know this man, something in his voice told her he wasn't someone to be toyed with, or disregarded. Certainly not a man who took orders very well.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," he told her. With that Harry pushed through the curtain and was gone.

He found the gang waiting in the hallway outside her room. Draco seemed to be looking him over.

"Well no hexes," he observed. "That's a positive sign. Is she coming around?" Taking a look at Harry's face, Draco saw the answer to his question. Looking disappointed he sighed. "Guess not."

Harry scoffed and began to pace. "The woman has to always argue everything. I swear." He growled.

Ron laughed. "Then she _is_ coming around," he said dryly. And then he looked at Harry. "Look Harry, maybe Luna and I could take her home. Or Gin and Malfoy could put her up."

"I mean, if she doesn't remember you're married-"

Harry cut him off quickly. His wife was going home with him. "She's going to remember Ron. She'll see something, hear something, it may trigger a memory and we'll go from there."

"I've got to be there for that. Got to give her every chance to remember me. To remember us." He fought to keep the hopelessness from taking over him. "Maybe I'll show her our wedding pictures."

"Might just do the trick," Draco agreed cheerfully, allowing a strained smile to take place.

"You're lousy at cheering up people, Malfoy," Harry told him. "But thanks for trying."

He realized Draco wasn't listening to him. Instead he was looking at something over his shoulder. Harry turned around and saw that Hermione had emerged from the curtain, wearing her light green sundress.

Her hair was hanging around her face and shoulders in somewhat bushy curls. She'd always told him that she hated the way it looked. He thought she looked beautiful.

Except for the hairstyle, she looked exactly the way she had when she stepped onto the field this morning. And yet she was different. She wasn't his Hermione anymore.

But she would be, he vowed. She would be.

"God, I look like Orphan Annie," she complained, running her fingers through her hair and trying to pull it straight. It was a pointless exercise, seeing her hair didn't plan on changing.

"Orphan Annie she remembers," Harry mumbled under his breath. But Hermione heard him.

"Sure, I used to watch it when I was a little girl," she said as she moved closer to Ron and away from him.

Closer to what was familiar. Away from what was not.

**Thanks for reading and please review good or bad. Chapter 3 will be out real soon.**


	3. Coming Home

**You guys are awesome, thanks for the reviews and I'm so glad your liking the story so far. Please remember to try and review, for I just love hearing from you. I'm so sorry for the long wait. With school and the game Kingdom hearts, time just slipped right past me.**

**But chapter 3 is finally here, so please review and chapter 4 will be out soon. I promise.**

**Chapter 3 – Coming Home**

"Well, this place isn't going to win the _Good Housekeeping _award anytime soon." Hermione stood in the doorway of the house her "husband" claimed to be theirs.

After all the trouble he took with hiding it from the rest of the world, she imagined a grand house or something to that magnitude, needless to say as her brown eyes surveyed her new surroundings. Boy was she wrong.

A distant feeling of déjà vu creped through her, but then in the next moment it was gone. She didn't recognize the house, and she had a strong idea she would have, given its unique state.

Hermione remained frozen, holding on to the doorknob. Not wanting to let go, as if her life depended on it. Not wanting to take a step further into this house she didn't recognize, into this life she didn't know with a man who was a stranger to her.

Still not daring to move, she looked around. The place seemed a little dusty and some sheets covered what she assumed was furniture. Her face paled as she swore something moved in the corner.

She was by no means a prissy girl, but something moved over there and she briefly wondered if this was a joke. She certainly couldn't see herself living here.

No this had to be a joke, if this _was_ her house surely she wouldn't let it go this bad. The wall to her left held a picture of a woman. Taking a few minutes to stare she tried to remember who it was. Nothing came o her mind as she glanced around what she assumed was the living room.

Here and there, hints of hunter- green wallpaper still clung for dear life to the walls. It looked like the center of her worst nightmare. She _lived_ here?

Harry slowly removed the key from the door. He couldn't close the door or enter the house himself because she was blocking the doorway.

His eyes never let her face as he prayed for some sign of recognition. All he saw was startled wonder.

"We live here," she finally said, looking at him. It wasn't so much a question as a statement of disbelief.

"Yes" he replied evenly.

It wasn't the best place to live granted, but while they were fixing up Godric Hollow it was their only option. He hoped by bringing her here he would unlock her mind.

"Why don't you move away from the door, Hermione?" he sighed.

She gave no sign that she heard him. Instead Hermione looked up at the botched up ceiling. Hermione sighed before her eyes shifted back to him.

"I'm afraid something might fall on me if I come in."

Harry looked around sighing he couldn't really blame her. The house of black was no mansion, but he liked having part of his godfather still with him. And Hermione did too. That was until.

"Don't be. This house is solid as a rock, with many wards. You even rechecked yourself when I got the papers."

Papers; for some reason she just assumed they rented the house. It was more in keeping with this temporary feeling that nibbled away at her.

She looked at him with disbelief. Why in heavens name would they have wanted to buy such a place?

"We own this." She asked.

"Yes," he said evenly. He knew her well enough to know that he should brace himself for some kind of onslaught.

Hermione moved away from the doorway. Proximity did not improve her impression. This was a disaster area. All it needed was to be declared so by the Minister of Magic.

"Why?" she asked. "Did we lose a bet?"

"No," he corrected, following her as she conducted her inspection of the house. "I lost a Godfather."

Hermione turned around planning to ask him to explain, but seeing the look on his face she thought better of it and just sighed instead.

Sighing, Harry continued to follow her to the sitting room. "Look we only have a few more months here anyway, then our true house will be ready. I'm fixing up my mum and dad's old house." He explained.

"You're fixing up our house?" Hermione asked. "Why?"

When she was growing up, her father considered hammering a nail into the wall to hang a picture major construction. For anything else he always hired help.

He could remember Hermione taking an interest, not only in this house, but in his parent's house too. Had she feigned that? Or was she now just trying to find the path back and, once there, her interest, her enthusiasm would return?

"Because it's where we wanted to live." He replied evenly.

"So then you fix houses for a living?" she continued to survey her surroundings.

She always assumed that when she did get married, it would be to a _professional_ something, like a doctor or lawyer. But apparently she was supposed to have tied the knot with a laborer.

"Renovate," Harry corrected again, "the word is renovate."

He thought he saw her frown slightly. Before he could tell her sorry for the rudeness, impatience bit into him.

"Actually, I'm a quidditch player. I'm just fixing up the house myself." He told her.

He'd been pushed to the end today and wasn't sure how much more he could take before he was on overload. He'd been half terrified out of his mind when he thought he'd lost her, then relieved when she came to.

But now he was faced with the same situation, only in a different form. He _had_ lost Hermione, at least temporarily. Because she couldn't react to him the way only a wife could to a man she entrusted all her secret hopes and dreams to.

A man who'd been front row to all the private moments that went into making Hermione who and what she was.

Or had been, he added silently.

She was his wife damn it. The one he pledged his life too, and took it through the good and the bad. She was his best friend, still was and this was killing him.

He bloody missed her.

Frustrated, Harry wanted to shout "Game over!" and have her the way she'd been just this morning, before they'd taken off for the fields.

Damn, he wished they'd never stepped foot in that field. More than anything in the world, he wanted her to look at him the way she did when it was just the two of two of them, and the world was fading away.

Instead it seemed as if he was the one who had apparently faded away from her.

"You don't remember this?" He asked the question even though he already knew what her answer would be.

Hermione turned on her heel to face him. "I don't remember you," she needlessly reminded him.

She pressed her lips together, trying desperately to keep the panic from growing. She needed to keep moving. If this man looking at her so intently really was who he said he was, well, he had to prove it to her, to make her remember him.

He had all the cards. She had nothing to draw on. No special place to retreat to in order to start all over again, rebuilding memories.

She had no memories, at least none of him. He had to do something to change that, not her. It suddenly occurred to her that she was lacking the most basic form of information.

She tried to remember if any of her friends had called out to her would-be husband and failed to come up with anything.

"I don't even know your name." She said.

"Harry. Harry Potter." He shoved his hands into his back pockets. This felt so stupid, introducing himself to her after ten years.

"And I'm Hermione Potter?" She rolled the name over her tongue, testing it out. Tasting it. Listening to the way it sounded. No sense of the familiar came washing over her, yet she did recognize the name as belonging to her.

"Privately," he told her. "Professionally you're still Hermione Granger. You work at-"

"Ministry of Magic, yes I know." She had a very clear image of her office. Her window view of the busy street and its people. She loved it.

Harry felt as if the very breath was taken from him. And he had to wait a minute before it stopped bothering him so much.

Maybe they'd get lucky and she'd regain her memory by then. "You remember your job."

"I like referring to it as a career." She answered.

There were times when she thought it was somehow unethical; being paid for doing something she loved so much. She would have paid them to allow her to work there.

He felt as if something was about to snap inside of him. What if she _never_ remembered him? Never remembered the past ten years of their life?

Harry grasped her by the shoulders. "Damn it, Hermione, if this is a joke"

She watched him unflinchingly, the strength of his fingers registering as they pressed hard against her skin.

"Why would I joke about this?" she cried.

Harry realized he must be holding her too tightly, that he was channeling his frustration through his fingers.

Dropping his hands to his sides Harry sighed. "You know what I'm talking about." Taking a deep breath, he got himself together and mumbled.

"Sorry" It was his fear that made him act this way. Fear of losing what they'd had.

"That wasn't easy for you was it?" Hermione asked softly.

When he turned to give her a slow, puzzled look, she said to clarify, "You don't like expressing your emotions much."

Hope rose with a speed sure to beat a firebolt. "You remembered that?"

He looked so hopeful that she almost lied to him. But this was about getting down to the truth, not lying.

"Sorry, no. Instinct," she explained. "I'm good at reading people I think."

Groaning, he fought the urge to pull his hair out. He should have realized it wasn't going to be that easy. Still, he couldn't help being resentful."

"So how come you erased me out of your life?"

She felt her anger began to resurface and found it hard to keep it in check. Hermione began to say, "if I did", but the phrase never left her mouth.

Saying it would only be adversarial. By now she knew there was no more _if_. She did _erase_ Harry. Her friends wouldn't have allowed him to take her "home" to this half destroyed, dark arts treasure chest, if she really wasn't married to him.

"I don't know," she told him honestly. "I don't know." Blowing out a deep breath, Hermione took a stab at some reasons behind the lapse.

"Maybe you're having a affair." She shrugged.

Harry stared at her. "What? No," he spat when the full impact of her words registered.

"I didn't cheat on you. Hermione if I'd ever cheat on you, you would hex me…badly."

He realized that she could misinterpret that, as well. "Not that I would ever cheat on you."

Her eyes grew into small slits. " How do I know that?" she asked.

There was an argument coming he knew it. But he couldn't allow himself to be drawn into it. Couldn't banter with her for the sake of bantering. She no longer knew him and there was so much she would misunderstand.

So he just merely said, "To answer your question, No, I'm not having an affair."

Suddenly millions of questions begin to form in her mind. "Did we get along?"

"Yes, of course we did." He said. "You have your moments."

Hermione studied his face, still trying to pull anything from the depths of her mind. "I have my moments?" she asked him.

Now leaning against the wall Harry shrugged. "Like I said, you had your moments." He answered lightly.

"And you didn't" she asked hardly believing he was innocent.

There were times when he rose to the bait. Or started fights by baiting her. "Yeah, me, too."

Hermione sighed, it sounded to her they fought quite a bit. Maybe this was why she erased him from her life. Finally she felt almost certain it was the most logical conclusion and just maybe the answer she was looking for.

"Were we getting a divorce?" she finally asked him. The minute the words left her mouth, a cold feeling smothered her heart. Not quite sure what it meant she simply chose to ignore it.

"No," Harry retorted adamantly. "Hell, no. What made you ask that?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to shrug. When she did, the strap of her dress slid of her shoulder.

"Just trying to get to the bottom of why my brain pressed the delete button on you." She sighed.

Any other time Harry would have pushed down the other strap, taking the dress completely off. But this wasn't the time to give in to the desires she always aroused within him, He had the feelings making love with her right now wouldn't trigger anything except maybe a scream.

So he decided to ignore his desires and proceed lightly, hoping she'd return to her right mind and him soon.

"Seamus said there might not be a reason." He answered.

That wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear. Hermione moved away from the wall. It reminded her of what her brain felt like.

"Well then we're at less than square one."

Harry looked at his wife for a long moment. "I don't know about that. You're here."

That wasn't saying much, she thought as she looked around. Although, she could have forced one of her friends to take her in, she supposed.

Why hadn't she? She really wasn't sure.

"In a war zone," she observed.

Because he treasured anything that brought closeness to his godfather, especially this house, he took offense.

"It's not as bad as all that."

"Yeah," she agreed, "We could be living outdoors and it could be the rainy season."

Okay there was a glimmer of a grin there, he was sure of it. Some of her humor was surfacing. He took heart in that.

"You actually loved this place." He told her. "This house holds a lot of memories for us."

Placing his hand of her shoulder, Harry brought her over to the largest gaping hole in the wall. "See that?"

She would have been blind not to, she thought. "What about it?"

"You did that," he told her. She looked at him in disbelief. "You sent Ron through that wall right before sixth year."

"He argued with you about homework, wouldn't let up until you knocked him straight through the wall. Surprised us all with your strength."

"I pushed Ron through a wall?" she gasped trying to remember the incident but failed.

"You called it stress. Said he shouldn't hound you for wanting good grades unlike him. We all stayed clear of you that night." He smiled.

"But it did help relieve the stress. Want to do it now? You always have a lot of stress to spare." He asked.

Was that criticism, she wondered? Or was he daring her? Never one to let a challenge go unanswered, she raised her eyebrow in surprise.

"Let me get this straight, you want me to push you through a wall." She said.

"I was meaning a object or something," he said. "Unless you really wanted to push me," he said wincing.

"While that is tempting, I really don't see how it would help. But to humor myself I'll try." Hermione said.

Harry smiled softly. Another woman would have claimed this as pointless, but Hermione always saw things like that as a challenge.

He'd never met anyone who loved being challenged as much as she did.

Harry was counting on that now, hoping she would view reconstructing the pieces of her life with him as a challenge.

Spotting a stone figure on a side table, Hermione picked it up and heaved it, making contact with the wall. A shower of plaster, ugly wallpaper and wood went flying in all directions.

A sense of calm blasted through her. "You're right," she laughed, looking for something else, "This does feel good."

But as she began to grab another item, Harry grabbed her arm and stopped her.

Hermione glanced at him defiantly, still holding the object. "What?"

"Maybe you shouldn't tire yourself out right now." His eyes skimmed over the bandage on her forehead. "You did get that head injury."

"Oh, that." Reluctantly Hermione allowed him to remove the object. She slid her fingertips gently over the bandaged area and raised her eyes to him.

"Think this was the part that remembered you?" she whispered.

Harry had no idea how the mind worked or, even if he did, how hers worked. She had always been a mystery to him, but he had just begun finally learning all of his Hermione. He didn't want to give all that up.

"I'd like to think I had more than a microchip- size hold on your life." He leaned back against the wall, and then looked at her.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

Pausing to think Hermione nodded. Until now she hadn't really thought about food. She'd been to intent on piecing together the events of this morning to worry about it.

Not to mention it didn't look like an easy solution was going to happen anytime soon. She hated that.

"Maybe just an apple. I guess." She said.

At least that was the same, he thought. Hermione was quite the healthy eater. Her choices were a little too healthy for his taste.

But sometimes he would get an occasional pizza breakdown and he lived for that.

He decided he would give it a shot now. "How about some pizza?" he suggested "I could pop out for some real quick."

About to say no Hermione changed her mind and shrugged. "Okay."

Maybe it was what they normally did, it might be familiar enough to spark some remembering. She watched as Harry apperated from the living room.

Finally alone Hermione took the time to examine the living room and dining room some more. As she walked from the rooms, many questions began to form.

Did they eat like this often? Did it annoy him that she couldn't cook?

The man was incredibly sexy and good- looking. _Why_ was there no memory of him? Why had only he and this house vanished from her mind and nothing else?

There _had_ to be a reason. There just had to be.

Suddenly feeling the need to test herself, Hermione began to pull random bits and pieces out of the air. Her social number, Her parents name. Her first day at Hogwarts.

Each and every one of them came to her with ease. Why not him?

Twenty minutes later after Harry had returned with the pizza, they were both sitting in silence just eating the pizza, not really knowing what to say to each other.

It felt almost like a first date.

That same uneasy awkwardness shimmered between them. The awkwardness of two best friends falling in love, trying to decide if this was a colossal mistake or the beginning of something really good.

Except that a lot was at stake here, Hermione reminded herself as she finished what had to be her last slice of pizza. Only two pieces were left in the box.

Far smaller than Harry, she had consumed as much food as he had.

Hermione wished she could come up with a reason behind her brain's vanishing act when it came to Harry. He picked up the napkin and wiped his hands.

"You're awfully quite." He said breaking the silence.

Shrugging she leaned back onto the couch. "Just thinking." She replied.

"Maybe you shouldn't." he suggested as he leaned back as well.

Was this some kind of male dominance? She certainly didn't know who he was yet. He seemed nice enough. But that wasn't enough for a marriage, was it?

"I shouldn't think?" she snorted.

"Shouldn't try so hard to remember," Harry clarified. "Just let it come."

Smirking she sat up to get a better view of him. "You're awfully calm for a man whose wife doesn't remember him."

Harry smiled. At least she wasn't denying that any longer- that she was his wife. He took that as a sign of progress.

"You should see my insides." He chuckled softly.

"No thanks, I think I've seen enough of today." She paused, chewing on a new thought.

Glancing at her Harry could swear he could see the wheels turning in her head. "What?"

Hermione raised her eyes to his. "Were we …you know…happy?"

He'd expected a more intimate question. Maybe it had been and she'd lost her nerve at the last moment. No, he decided, Hermione didn't lose her nerve. She charged into anything.

He looked at her a long moment, trying to summon the woman he loved to the surface. And failing. "We had our moments."

There was that moment's thing again, she thought. And it still sounded rather sad and lonely. "Just moments?" she asked.

He laughed. "Sometimes longer than that. We fought," he admitted. "We made up. What couple doesn't from time to time?"

There was fondness in his voice as he recalled some of their more aggressive times. "There was a time we went to a party for Luna and her git of a cousin wouldn't back off you. I did everything but hex him. Finally decided to and you were so upset and embarrassed you threaten to never speak to me again."

"I damn near thought you were going to stick to it. And you almost did until I told you I was afraid of losing you. Then you kissed me and we…"

His voice trailed off as he thought back to that night when she kissed him, telling him how silly he was being, that she loved him and would rather die then give up on him. They made love till dawn that night.

She made love like a wild woman, bringing out the full potential of their passion. "That's what made it all worth it. The making up." He said snapping back to the present.

His eyes held hers. And then he reached for her. The second he did, Hermione shot back as far as she could on the couch. Her eyes were accusing.

"What do you think you're doing?" she spat.

_Trying to get my wife back._ "I just thought of a way to jog your memory." He sighed.

The next moment Hermione jumped to her feet. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes.

"I bet you did. Well you can just hold on to that thought, buster-and not me. Am I making my self clear?"

There was just no way she intended to make love with a complete stranger, no matter who the heck he said he was. Or how good-looking he was. That just wasn't her.

On his feet as well Harry dragged a hand through his jet-black hair, trying to keep a hold of his temper. This was going to take a lot more patience than he'd anticipated.

Trouble was, he wasn't all that sure if he was up to it.

Harry knew the anger he felt was largely unreasonable. This was a medical matter and nothing personal. But it was hard not to take it personally when his wife, the woman he loved and let into the most private parts of his world- places no one else had ever been admitted to- kept rejecting him.

Kept looking at him as if he was a stranger. He did the best he could.

"I thought logic was you're strong suit, Mione, you must know we did have a physical relationship."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "That was when I knew who you were," she retorted.

More than anything she hated no being in control. Everything had an answer. Everything could be fixed, and if she couldn't remember him when he had been such an integral part of her life, then she wasn't in control, not even of her own mind and thoughts.

Harry seized her response, cutting her off before she said something to negate the point he was trying to make. "Exactly. And I just thought that kissing me might help you remember."

The crack about Logic being her strong suit still had her fuming. "Remember what? That you're sarcastic?"

"No," he snapped, "that you loved me."

His words stopped her from saying anything back. _That you loved me_. Had she? Until this morning, had she loved this man? A lot or a little? God, but she wished she had a grasp on that, at least.

Her lips pressed together not sure of what to say to him. Hermione felt some of her annoyance fade. He wanted to kiss her. To try and jog her memory.

It might be worth a try. Besides he was very good-looking, as long as he didn't try and take it further than a kiss. It could be fun; After all she wasn't a nun.

Hermione raised and lowered her shoulders carelessness. "I suppose that makes some kind of sense."

This she hadn't forgotten how to do, to counter every word, every move from him with one of her own. Life with her at times wasn't easy, But worth it just the same.

"It makes perfect sense, Hermione," he said sighing.

Hermione gave him a lofty look. "Nothing is perfect," she countered.

His eyes narrowed. "We were perfect before you went and forgot me." He shot back.

That stung. "If you're going to kiss me, then get it over with." She spat.

His temper made another reappearance. She made it sound as if she was walking into her death, he thought. "This isn't exactly in the same category as a root canal."

"How would I know that?" she threw at him.

Harry knew he could answer her, could make some kind of retort to her challenge but it would only lead to more insults. She had a way of making him see red in a really short time.

Struggling not to straggle her wasn't exactly the right frame of mind he needed in order to kiss her in a way that jarred the very foundation of her world.

So instead of saying another word to her, Harry put his arms around her waist, pulled her to him and, cupping the back of her head, brought his mouth down on hers.

Caught by surprise, she tried to back away wedging her hands against his chest. Had she pushed at all, he would have immediately released her.

But she didn't.

As he put his heart and soul into the kiss, Harry became vaguely aware of Hermione's hands sliding down his back. The very next second she was clinging to him, her hands going around his neck as his blood was starting to rush in his veins.

This, he thought, this was his Mione.

Maybe her mind didn't remember him, but her body sure did. It fit against him in that familiar way, her curves filling his spaces the way his did hers.

He remembered thinking, the first time they made love, that they were like two halves of a whole and that she made him feel complete.

He couldn't lose that, Harry thought with an urgency that unsettled him.

How could she respond like this and not remember him? His mind demanded just before all coherent thought faded into oblivion.

_Wow, Oh, wow,_ Hermione thought. How could she not remember this man? He was doing something to her all right. And she didn't even want to speculate what her blood was doing as it raced through her body.

Her head spun out of control, almost out of reach. This was good. This was better than good; it was fantastic.

She couldn't catch her breath, didn't want to catch her breath, afraid that if she did, this would all stop. Hermione was only slightly aware she was pressing her body against his.

She should remember this. _Why_ didn't she remember this?

The question replayed in her head over and over again, even as she struggled to keep the moment from coming to an end. Moaning, she tightened her arms around his neck, pressing her lips harder against his.

Okay, Harry thought, she remembered. She _had_ to remember. She couldn't have kissed him this way with such feeling if she didn't.

God, but she'd had him scared there for a while. His lips still sealed against hers, Harry shifted and tucked one hand beneath her legs. Before he could lift her off the floor, Hermione pulled her head back.

Her hands were wedged against his chest again, pushing for all she was worth. The accident certainly did nothing to reduce her strength.

"What the heck do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

Although fueled by anger, the question came out in short, phrases because there was absolutely no air to spare in her lungs.

He stared at her, feeling like a man ready to lose his mind. "I was going to take you to our bedroom."

"Put me down!" she ordered, sounding just like someone who was being attacked. "Let me go!"

Disgusted, bewildered and not knowing just how much more of this he was able to take, Harry unceremoniously released her.

Survival instincts had Hermione grabbing his shoulders. The quick move was all that kept her from hitting the floor. Straightening, she glared at him.

He returned the glare with an innocent look. "Just doing what you told me. Letting you go."

Hermione pressed her lips together, struggling to hold on to a temper she knew could be explosive. The euphoria that he'd created seconds before had completely vanished.

"I also said just a kiss," she reminded him hotly. "That wasn't an invitation to drag me off to your lair. What are you a cave man?"

Harry spread his hands out on either side of him, his fingers extended toward the ceiling in silent surrender. "Don't worry, I'm not about to take you anywhere near my 'lair."

But even as he said it, he realized that this was going to be their next problem. She saw the look on his face and knew he just thought of something.

"What?" she asked him.

The master room was the only room in the house that was actually decent. Seeing as they weren't staying here permanently, they didn't really need a lot of rooms.

The other rooms were in varying stages of clutter. Many filled with the Black family heirlooms he didn't have the heart to get rid of.

Harry blew out a breath as he looked at her. "I suppose you want the master room to yourself."

Ordinarily she wouldn't have hesitated, but she wasn't about to commit herself to anything inside this fun house. "That depends."

He had no idea where she was going with this. "On what?"

"On whether or not it looks as if the dark arts decorated it. Does it have hole less walls?" she asked.

Given the state of the living room and the rest of the house, he supposed it was a legitimate question. It had been too much to hope for that she remembered all the work he had put into it for her.

"Yes, it has hole less walls." He told her.

She clearly wasn't satisfied. "A door?"

He bit back his impatience. "Why don't you come see for yourself?"

He motioned for her to follow him and surprisingly she did. Just as he was about to go up the steps, he abruptly turned around to look at her.

"Back there, in the living room, when I kissed you…"

She had a feeling she knew what he was going to ask. What all men wanted to be told. How good they were. "It was nice," she grudgingly admitted.

This time he saw right through her. When she tried to avoid saying something, she wouldn't look at his eyes. "It was more than nice," he countered. "You felt something."

Her chin shot up. "Yes, I felt something, you, trying to get me into bed."

"Besides that Hermione" he groaned.

He knew he was laying himself bare before the "Old" Hermione, the woman his wife had been before they'd made that stunning discovery they loved each other. But he was trying to reach the woman she'd evolved into, the woman with whom the lovemaking threatened to burn right through.

The very woman he had exchanged vows and hearts with in front of their friends and family.

She wasn't that woman right now, not to him. But she had been. And if they were going to make any progress in that direction, one of them had to take the first step.

It was obvious to Harry that Hermione wouldn't be the one. Though she tried to hide it, she was having enough trouble dealing with the knowledge that part of her wasn't the way it should be.

Even so, he felt he was heading into something that didn't offer him a safety net. "We connected just then, Hermione and you know it."

With a shrug, she looked away, doing her best to sound indifferent. "If you say so."

Harry took hold of her shoulders, forcing his wife to look at him, even as she tried to shrug him off. "Hermione, you're a hell of a lot of things, but you were never a liar."

She hadn't counted on him sensing her reaction. She should have covered it up better, she thought to herself. No man was ever going to have control over her unless she wanted him to, and then only for a short, specified duration of her choice.

"Okay," she conceded, annoyed, "We connected. If I was wearing socks, you would have knocked them off." She recited the old muggle saying dryly.

"But that doesn't change the fact that…" she began.

"You still don't remember me," he concluded for her. It was no longer an accusation, just a fact, and one he swore he was going to change.

Hermione shook her head and, in his estimation, looked almost sad for a second. "I still don't remember you," she repeated.

Just for a moment it felt as if they were on the same team. "Maybe visual aids would help."

He saw her stiffen as she looked at him warily. "You're not going to take your clothes off are you?"

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or take offense. Damn, but he wished he could peek into her head, figure out what she was thinking.

"I was thinking of wedding pictures." He sighed.

"Oh." She said with relief.

Wedding pictures. That sounded harmless enough. He had her worried for a minute. There was just something about him that made her feel he was an unquantified element, an unknown in the equation of her life.

"All right." She said looking around the living room. "Where are they?"

"You keep them in our bedroom." He reminded her.

"_My_ bedroom," she reminded him. "They're not lewd, are they?"

They're wedding pictures," he emphasized. What did she think he was showing her? "With our friends and your parents. You remember your parent's right?"

Hermione gave him an impatient look. "Of course I remember my parents."

"Of course," he echoed. Everybody and everything. Except for him.

A wave of guilt swept over her and she tried not to let it bother her. "Did I just hurt your feelings?"

Harry stopped a few steps shy of their bedroom. The look he gave her was cold. "If I was capable of any sensitive feelings, you managing to forget me rubbed the sensitivity right out of me."

Another insult. Any guilt she felt vanished instantly. Squaring her shoulders, Hermione sailed right past him and into the bedroom. It wasn't what she expected.

It wasn't a bedroom, it was a suite. A beautiful suite.

The extra large room had a vaulted ceiling enchanted like the night sky. Just as beautiful as it was at Hogwarts. But what really caught her attention was the huge, California king-sized bed with its hand- quilted blue-and-white comforter.

Matching shams and a handful of throw pillows. The four- poster had lace curtains drifting down from a canopy frame. Power and femininity at the same time.

It was, quite literally, the bedroom of her dreams. Hermione looked around slowly. The walls were a cool light blue, with white molding and trim along the top and bottom.

"It's beautiful," she told him, her voice hardly above a whisper. "_You_ did this?"

"I wanted to give you the bedroom of your dreams, even if we weren't ready to move into our real home."

One night, she'd shared that with him, what she'd fantasized about while growing up. She wanted something soft, something pretty, yet something that still had an underlying strength to it.

He'd given her words a visual interpretation. Creating it became his number one priority. So he set out on getting it done while she was away at work.

The look on her face the first time she'd seen the room had made it worth it. The look resembled what was on her face now. Except then her next move had been to throw her arms around his neck with a laugh, declaring that they needed to christen the bed.

They had, and even amid their rigorous love life, it stood out as a night to remember. She'd forgotten that, too, he thought with a sharp pang.

Crossing to the bed, Hermione picked up one of the curtains, examining it. The materials felt soft, cool against her fingertips. She looked up at him.

"You did this for me?"

He shrugged, burying his hands deep in his pocket. "Men don't usually go for frills."

The look in his eyes got to her almost as much as his kiss had. He was making her weaken, she suddenly realized. With a little bit of encouragement…

She needed to push him away somehow. Now. She couldn't allow herself to be led around; she needed time, time to work this through for herself.

To discover why it was she forgotten him when he'd apparently been so nice to her, at least some of the time. She dropped the curtain and moved away from the bed, pretending to look out the window.

"I guess that's kind of fortunate, then." She sighed.

He didn't understand, but he braced himself. "What do you mean?"

Turning away from the window, she looked up into his eyes. "Because it looks like the rest of the rooms in this place definitely don't come with frills."

She was telling him to get out. "Right." He said crossing to the doorway. "Okay, if you need anything. I'll be right down the hall."

Harry hadn't made up his mind just which room to take. They were all pretty bad, but in any event, all she needed to do was call out and he would hear her from whichever room he was in.

"I won't need anything," she assured him crisply.

Damn it. Hermione sounded like herself. She certainly kissed like herself. So why the hell wasn't she herself? And how long was this going to take?

If he just had some finite point, some final date to reach and know that that this ordeal was over, he could wait this out. The fact that the wait could be endless scared the hell out of him.

He crossed the threshold into the hall, then paused. "About tomorrow…"

Instantly she was on her guard. "What about tomorrow?"

"It's Monday," he told her. "You have work."

What was he getting at? "Yes?"

She was making him feel like some kind of idiot. "I can pop in" he said crisply, "Tell them you're taking a few days off."

Hermione was looking at him as if he was talking gibberish. "Why would I want to do that?"

"I don't know," he said in exasperation, "Maybe to work at fixing this part of you."

"I'm not broken Harry" she spat.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "That might be a matter of opinion. You don't remember me," he reminded her, grinding out each word before pushing it through his clenched teeth.

"Maybe I have good reason," she retorted. "Did you ever stop to think about that?"

He gazed at her for a long moment, and then turned on his heel without saying another word.

"Where are you going?" she called after him.

"To get an aspirin. You've given me a headache. Again"

The word hung in the air long after he walked out of the room. _Again._

It didn't sound as if they had the best of marriages, she thought. Maybe that was what she was trying not to remember.

With a sigh Hermione pulled her wand from her pocket and shut and locked the door.


	4. Fixing Us

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed chapter 3. As always please review and I hope you like this chapter.**

**Chapter 4- Fixing Us**

Harry didn't even hear him approach until Ron was nearly on top pf him. Between the swishing of his fellow teammates and the whistle blowing from the referee the noise level was intense on the field.

But even so he might have been aware of Ron's presence if he hadn't been so lost in thought. He'd never been overly optimistic when it came to life.

After his childhood with the Dursley's and vanquishing the dark lord, he'd like to think he was prepared for some low blows.

But no scenario he could have divined would ever have prepared him for Hermione suddenly not recognizing him, not being aware of his place in her life.

It just boggled his mind.

Gripping the snitch, he stared of into space. He continued to roll the snitch around in his hands as the events of last night replayed in his mind.

The tap on his shoulder made him jump. Startled, Harry just barely managed to grasp his wand as he turned around. Reality and the world returned.

Ron was less than a foot away and had moved back quickly at the sight of his wand.

"Damn it Ron," Harry growled, pushing his wand back into his pocket, "You came pretty close to getting stunned where your stomach currently sits."

"That was cruel Harry, you of all people know I happen to value my stomach." Ron said smiling.

"You seem lost in thought, Harry." He took a calculated guess. "Thinking about Mione?"

Rather than answer straight away Harry just looked across the field and sighed.

"Something like that." He said rolling the snitch in his hand. He was beginning to feel stiff, probably due to the fact he had been sitting here the last half hour thinking about his wife.

That meant that he was going to have to get up soon. "What are you doing here?" he asked finally looking at Ron.

"Don't you have a goal to keep?"

Ron shrugged "I took the day off, you know Luna's on vacation this week."

Exhaling Harry dropped the snitch into the case. "You just had two days off. What about this Sunday?" That was why they had gone to the field.

It was one of the rare times that they all could coordinate their schedules so they could get together. "I bet you just wanted to check up on me." Harry told him.

Ron smiled at his best friend. Technically, Harry was right. Concern had him down here today, just as it had taken him to first look in on Hermione.

He caught her just as she was heading to the Ministry. For a woman who was hit in the head and was now walking around without any memory of her husband, Hermione seemed in amazing health and spirits.

But then again, Hermione had always been able to hide what was going on inside her. He'd let it go for now, promising himself to look in on her later.

"I'll be back at practice tomorrow," Ron said dismissively, "but I'm not down here to talk about my work schedule."

"Why are you down here?" Harry checked his growl at the last minute. He was still trying to get used to this all-for-one-and-one-for-all thing that governed his wife and their friends approach to life.

He'd grown up keeping to himself and the transition wasn't easy. But he was working on it.

"To find out how things went last night," Ron's mouth curved again. "I guess that growl kind of answers my question. Hermione still doesn't remember being married to you, huh?"

"Or so she says," Harry said.

He saw the look on Ron's face, as if his best friend was torn between whose side to take. Feeling thirsty, Harry grabbed a bottle of water. He offered one to Ron who passed.

Harry took a long drink of water before he continued. "I'm still not convinced this isn't some kind of joke she's playing." He said.

Especially after she kissed him back the way she did.

Ron shook his head. "I really don't think she'd carry on a joke for more than a few hours Harry."

Harry shrugged. Granted, she hadn't up until now, but that didn't mean she couldn't. "What makes you so sure?"

"Well, for one thing, she loves you. For another, she gets her points across pretty quickly." Ron told him.

"Maybe it's not a joke, maybe it's payback of some kind." Harry retorted.

Ron stared at him. "Payback, Harry come on. Hermione wouldn't payback somebody. And besides Payback for what?"

Harry finished off the last of the water, and tossed it to be recycled later. A small smile graced his face at the gesture. That was Hermione's doing. She'd made him promise to carry on the muggle tradition, even though they lived among wizards.

Everywhere he turned, she'd left an imprint, an indelible mark on his life to show that she passed through. Why hadn't he left an indelible mark on hers?

"Who knows? With Hermione, it could be anything. There was that time she thought that fan was coming on to me." He still remembered the jealous expression she wore standing by the bench with Luna, how it made her seem even sexier.

"You remember I slept on the couch for a week until I convinced her that there was nothing going on, that even if the woman was standing starkers, I wouldn't care because I loved only her."

They had some amazing love making that night, he recalled.

Damn it, he wanted his wife back.

"Making you sleep on the couch sounds like Hermione," Ron agreed, following him back to locker room. "The amnesia bit doesn't."

Reluctantly Harry nodded. "Maybe you're right."

Facing that frightened him most of all. A prank he knew how to handle; was good at retaliating. But how did he deal with a mind that shut him out? What did he do to get through to her again?

At a loss, he dragged his hand through his hair. "But if you are, then I'm really up the creek, Ron. How do I make her remember me?"

Sighing Ron leaned back on the wall. "The wedding album didn't work?"

"She recognized all of you, but not the event. And not me. Not from that day, anyway." Frustrated, Harry scrubbed his face with his hands.

"I'm just the guy at her elbow, claiming to be her husband." He said. It wasn't easy admitting that, but he was close to Ron more than anything, except for Hermione. But it wasn't as if she was exactly available to him at the moment.

Harry gave voice to the biggest fear that haunted him. "What if she never remembers me?"

Ron wasn't about to go that route. He always looked on the positive side of things now. "Not going to happen," he assured Harry.

"Look until you two got together, Ginny and Luna and I thought she'd never get married and settle down. Hermione was too wrapped up in work to date. Not to mention, most men can't handle her need to know everything." He continued.

"You knew her and lasted not only three months or so Harry. You lasted ten years." He grinned at the man he called a brother.

"We never saw her with anyone else like that. Remember Victor Krum? She didn't even pay much attention to him. _"You're_ the one she loved Harry. Because you saw her for what she really was and you understand her. But I have to say it's because after all these years you still hang in there."

The words in the last sentence were uttered slowly, each word a little slower than the last as he tried to make his point.

"Okay Weasley, what are you thinking? I can almost see the smoke coming out of your ears."

Ron laughed. "Court her Harry."

Harry looked at his friend as if he'd lost his mind. "What?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Court her," he repeated. "Do whatever it was you did the first time around. It worked once, who's to say it won't work again."

"Court her?" Harry echoed incredulous. Men didn't court their wives. Jumping through those kinds of hoops was for before the vows. "That's ridiculous Ron. She's my wife, not my girlfriend."

"And she doesn't remember being either," Ron pointed out. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with courting your wife."

Spoken like a man who'd been in the doghouse with Luna from time to time, Harry thought darkly. Besides, he didn't have time to begin courting her. He still had their house to finish.

But then he remembered how he felt spending the night on the floor of one of the other bedrooms last night. They'd spent time apart before, when he traveled for games. But he'd always known she would be waiting for him.

He didn't know that anymore.

Harry frowned. Hermione would never go for it. She was far too suspicious. "There is when she acts like you're some sexual predator." He said.

"You lost me." And then, just as quickly, the light dawned on Ron. "You didn't try and get her into bed, did you?" he groaned.

"I kissed her." Harry snapped. Getting her into bed had been a goal- for purely altruistic reasons, he told himself. Intimacy might have triggered something in her head.

"Not that it's any business of yours." He added.

She's my best friend Harry and part of her brain cells have gone missing, so, yes for the time being it is my business," Ron countered evenly.

"Once she's okay, you guys can act out Romeo and Juliet stark naked for all I care."

"There's a thought," Harry muttered, shaking his head.

It occurred to Ron that both his best friend's were bullheaded and stubborn. "Here's another one. Did you two have some kind of major fight before you came to the field yesterday?"

Harry shook his head. "No, nothing out of the ordinary." He thought back beyond Sunday. "Maybe she's been a little moody lately, but I just chalked that up to her typical behavior under stress. You know things have been crazy at the Ministry and she's was looking a little pale when we came back from the Ireland game."

Harry sighed running his hands through his hair. "That's why I thought going to the field would be a good idea."

"So there's no reason why she'd try to forget you." Ron asked.

"Of course not," Harry said, trying to hide his anger.

Ron shrugged as he looked to his friend. He was out of ideas. "Well I guess that leaves courting her huh?"

"It's stupid Ron," Harry pointed out.

"And," Ron said sounding annoyed. "Right now it's all you got, unless you got something better in mind."

Harry didn't want to admit it, but he really had nothing to go on. "No. I don't"

"Well, it's worth a try Harry, you won her once, you'll do it again." Ron smiled obviously more confident of the situation than he was.

"I don't have to 'win' her, I have her," Harry argued, feeling quite unsure of the statement. After all if he had her, she wouldn't have shut him out.

"Do you Harry? Cause right now, she seems to think you don't," he told him.

Before Harry could respond, Ron sighed, "Look I got to run. I promised Luna I would help her paint the flat. She insist we do it the muggle way. Bollers and all." He said wincing.

"Rollers Ron, they're called rollers." Harry said shaking his head.

Ron sighed, "Bollers, rollers. The point is it's the muggle way." He sighed again. His face seemed to pale at the thought and Harry almost laughed.

But laughing was something he just couldn't bring himself to do since yesterday. No matter how funny the situation was.

"Well I best be going, Luna will have my arse if I'm late." Ron replied already heading toward the exit. "And think about what I said."

"Yeah, I'll think about it," Harry said, gathering up his bag, and heading to the changing room.

"You do that, mate," Ron said under his breath as Harry disappeared into the building and he left.

Hermione waited until she knew Harry was out of the house. And the moment she was alone, she hurried back to the bedroom she didn't remember as being hers.

After closing the door, she crossed to the richly carved wardrobe and opened the bottom drawers. There, right on the top was the wedding album Harry had shone her the night before.

Holding her breath, she took it out. She wanted a chance to look at them again without him standing behind her. Hermione slowly carried the book over to the bed and sit down.

Very slowly and nervously, she flipped through page after page, as if she was looking to solve a mystery.

The wedding album was about six inches thick, and every page had at least one picture of her and her so-called husband. Holding hands, kissing, laughing.

It looked like she had a wonderful time. And what puzzled her the most was she looked very happy.

Hermione sighed long and hard. The day a woman got married was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life. So why couldn't she remember her day?

Why couldn't she remember him?

"What happened between us, Harry?" she whispered to the man in the picture. It was one of them kissing in front of the cake. "What did you do to make me forget you?"

Maybe it wasn't his fault, she thought. Maybe she had done something, and the guilt she'd felt had leaped into action at the accident, causing her to forget him.

Her heart began to hammer. Hermione snapped the album shut on her lap. Could that be it? Could she have done something, maybe been unfaithful to him and her mind couldn't handle it?

"That's crazy," she declared to the heavy silence around her.

Maybe she didn't remember him, but she did remember herself, and she knew she'd never do something like that. Getting off the bed, she placed the album back in the wardrobe.

Yes, she had dated before, but sleeping with someone took an emotional commitment she wasn't willing to volunteer. Everyone knew how she felt about those sorts of things so there was no reason to believe she would have violated her marriage vows.

Marriage vows she didn't remember taking, she thought, holding her head.

It was beginning to ache again, just like it did yesterday at St. Mungo's. Normally she tried to tough it out with any pain, but she didn't feel up to it right now. Not this early in the day. She had to be at work in twenty minutes.

If she didn't hurry, she was going to be late. And she was _never_ late. That was something she lived by.

It wasn't even fifteen minutes since she entered her office and she immediately threw herself into work. She'd just been going over a complaint about faulty wards in a nearby muggle area when her door opened.

Flew open, actually. And without a knock.

"Why didn't you tell me?" the voice boomed in panic.

Tall, skinny, with dark brown hair and air of superiority about him, the man strode into her office as if he owned it.

"Hello, Neville," Hermione said mildly, putting down her files. The look she gave him was studied innocence. "Tell you what?"

His dark eyebrows came together in mocked surprise. "That you took a Bludger to the head, and almost died."

"But I didn't," she said cheerfully. "Otherwise, you'd be bursting into someone else's office."

His look only grew darker. "Don't get sarcastic with me, Hermione Jane."

Her smile remained in place. After he finally became more confident in fifth year, Neville had become a force to be reckoned with. She found that smiling usually undermined some of his frontal attacks.

"I'm just pointing out the obvious Nev." She said.

Neville snorted, "The obvious is that you don't seem to have a brain in your head." He retorted.

"Oh, but I do," she told him brightly. "Seamus took quite a few scans of it and according to him there was something there every time."

"What are you doing here?" He waved one hand around the office. "You should be home resting, I would have let you have all the time you need," he told her, his face softening.

Hermione was having a difficult time keeping her expression cheerful. "I'm fine."

His face held a skeptical look as he studied her. "Then why don't you remember your husband?"

As the words left his mouth, she gave up the charade as her temper rose. "Who talked to you?" she spat.

"I spoke to Ron last night, he filled me in on what happened." Neville told her

Hermione suppressed a groan; Damn Ron was too nosey, sometimes. "Good old Ron looks like I owe him one."

"At least Ron has some sense in his head Hermione, I mean you're at work the day after you were hit with a Bludger."

"And I told you Neville, I'm alright. Please don't make this more than what it is." Hermione pleaded.

"I won't as soon as you pack up and go home." His tone leaving no room for argument.

Gasping Hermione glared. She was not about to be treated like a child.

"Why would I go home, I have work to do." She said still trying to hang on to her nerves.

"Because your so- called husband, though I love him like a brother, obviously doesn't think enough of you to take care of you." Was his reply.

A shimmer of protectiveness toward Harry rose within her. She could only attribute it to the fact that when people said, "black" that made her want to say, "white". It had nothing to do with Harry.

"Now Neville, nobody takes care of me but me. Seamus checked me out from head to toe, signed me out, saying I was fine."

"If you're so fine," Neville countered, "why can't you remember Harry?"

"Seamus said that when a blow to the head is involved, sometimes people get amnesia." Hermione huffed.

"Amnesia, Hermione. Maybe but to forget one person. Not unless something bad happened. "Now I won't pry and ask what the trouble is between the two of you," Neville was saying. "But until it's resolved, I think you should stay home."

She knew he was only concerned, but she wanted to be here, needed to be here. "Thank you, but no. I'm working this out on my own, Nev. Now, thank you for worrying about me, but please go back to your office and finish you're work. I'm fine."

He glared at her. "Never could talk any sense into that fool head of yours. If you weren't such a good worker, I'd fired you."

She smiled up at him brightly again. "Then I guess I'm lucky I'm such a good worker." And then she grinned wider. "If I'm stubborn, you should take that up with my father. Everyone says I take after him."

Sighing, Neville knew when he lost. Taking her hand he brought her to her feet. Taking hold of her shoulders, he looked into her eyes. "If you say your okay then I'll let up. I'm just glad your okay and I want it to stay that way."

Hermione threw her arms around him and held on dearly. It meant so much to her that he cared enough for her well-being. She had the greatest friends a girl could ask for.

Too bad she couldn't say the same for her husband. In time she hoped she would get the chance. Letting go of him, Hermione stepped back and straightened her robes.

"I'll leave you to work, but if you need me call me okay." Neville smiled.

Nodding she kept her smile in place as she watched him walk away.

Harry stopped dead the moment he closed the door behind him. Almost immediately he came up against what appeared to be yellow tape, everywhere.

He was purposely late getting home, secretly hoping that once he walked through the door, he'd find things had gone back to normal.

Or as normal as they could be, given that he was married to a woman who insisted on making everything around her a challenge of some sort. She brought excitement into the word hello and while at times he found keeping up with her exhausting, the life he was living now was quite a considerable improvement.

Except that, with one look at her face he knew that his life was in danger of going to hell. What didn't help was the fact that yellow tape ran the length of the living room.

Hermione stood up, trying to force her feet to move. She managed to move a few steps toward him. "Oh you're home."

She tried her best to sound as if everything was normal and not that they both were walking a fine line around each other

This, however, was something different. Why her stomach was in knots, was beyond her. For heavens sake, she didn't even know this man from Adam, why did she even care about his reaction?

He _said_ he was her husband. So did her friends. But the fact that she and this Harry person had had a relationship didn't mean anything to her beyond being the cause of frustration because she couldn't remember it.

None of it.

"Yeah, I'm home." He raised a piece of the tape. It gave with the movement, remaining tied. Harry fought the urge to yank it down.

"What the hell _is_ all this?" he asked her.

She was going to be the better person, she told herself. She was going to hang on to her temper even as he lost his. "What's it look like?" she replied.

Harry frowned glancing at the living room, Just what did she think she was doing? "Like you're marking off a crime scene."

"No," she said evenly, careful to keep a smile she didn't feel on her face. "I'm dividing up the house." She'd decided that this was the only way for now, if they were going to have to share the same living quarters.

The situation between them was difficult enough to deal with as it was. Seeing the yellow tape running through the living room and he assumed every room, was like having her thumb her nose at him.

Harry glared at her. " What the hell for?"

Just as with Neville, Hermione had no intentions of letting this man run over her. "I'd think it would be obvious."

Harry wrapped his hand around the tape, but still managed to keep from tearing it down. Just barely. "Enlighten me."

Hermione went toe- to- toe with him. "This way we can go about the house without getting in each other's way." She bit back the part about if he was a gentleman, he'd move out till they figured this out one way or another.

She had a feeling it would only set him off and that was the last thing she needed. She wanted a way to coexist in this bizarre situation.

"Since you say this is my house and it appears to be your house, as well…"

It had always struck him as uncanny the way she could pluck a word out of the air and annoy the hell out of him. "Appears?"

Hermione ignored his comment. " We need to live peaceful together in this house, and I can't have you coming around when I'm getting ready for work."

Harry knew he was being baited, and he went for it anyway. "You read complaints and follow them up," he pointed out. "It's not exactly brain surgery."

There were certain things she could put up with. Having her job at the ministry belittled was not one of them. "No, it's certainly not." Sarcasm entered her voice. "Not like flying after a golden ball."

Harry had never thought of Hermione's job at the ministry as anything else but wonderful. He was very proud of her, and he thought she was of him too.

Never before had she referred to his job as meaningless, yet neither had he. He had to admit he started it, but to hear her throw it back at him like that _did_ hurt.

"I do more than then fly after a golden ball," he informed her. He almost said "And you know it," except she didn't, he realized. Not anymore.

He was going to have to tell her this all again. Tell her that after he'd discovered that he liked Quidditch, and decided that he would like to pursue a career.

She didn't let him continue. Instead she fisted her hands at her hips and glared at him. "And I do a hell of a lot more than read complaints and follow them up."

"Yeah, and you're still not the minister." He shot back.

He bit off the curse. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn't mean that. Had he not felt as if his whole world was falling apart, he would have never said something like that to her.

Hermione's brown eyes narrowed. She was ready to retaliate, but didn't. With effort, she decided to ignore his last comment.

"I divided the kitchen in half. The stove and fridge are neutral."

"Neutral," he repeated. Harry couldn't believe this was real. "What is this, a war?"

Standing to match him Hermione shrugged. Even though he was still more than a foot taller than she was, she didn't plan on backing down.

"I don't know, you tell me."

The war was long gone. They'd gotten past that. Came out of it alive and for that they had a life together.

"Hermione you're my wife."

He was going to take her into his arms, she felt it. She quickly took a step back before he could. Something about his touch made her forget things. And she needed to remember not forget.

"But if I can't remember being your wife, it doesn't count, does it? As far as I'm concerned, you're a stranger. An irritating stranger,"

She was angry because her feelings were still hurt from his comment about her career. "And I wont just jump right into bed with you either."

There, he thought, he had her. "But you did Hermione. On the first date."

After the shyness of the night, sparks begin to fly between them. As much as they tried to go slow and see where this took them. They couldn't and after dinner they returned to her flat.

They ended up making love all night. He wasn't even sure who had initiated it. But he clearly remembered he felt the love they held for one another surge through his veins.

She sniffed at his statement. Inside she could feel everything turn to jelly again. She had to put a stop to that.

"According to you."

"Yes, according to me. You can't see to remember, and I was the only other person there besides you. We didn't exactly put it on the front page of the Daily Prophet."

Frustrated he looked at her. "Isn't any of this coming back to you?"

She sighed, what he said could have happened. There were pictures, which proved they were married. But she needed more than visual aids. She needed to _feel_ they were married, that they connected.

And she didn't. She felt confused.

Hermione just shook her head as she looked into his green eyes. "No."

Just for a moment she swore she saw sadness in his eyes. The next moment it was gone, as if some kind of curtain went down, shutting her out.

A sigh of frustration escaped Harry's lips as he backed away from her. He gestured around the living room with its offending tape.

"And you're going to keep this stuff up?"

Because his voice seemed to challenge her, she was defiantly going through with it. "Yes." And then she added, "Until I remember."

That was it. He had all he could take for now. Pissed off he crossed back to the front door. "Well, owl me when you do." He snapped.

Just the tiniest part of a moment, a memory flashed across her brain. Desperate, she tried to grab hold of it. But it refused to be summoned back to her. Exasperation strummed along her soul.

"Where are you going?"

He yanked open the door. She could really set him off when she wanted to. "Somewhere Where I can get some peace. Somewhere where I'm known."

Hermione almost ran to the door to stop him, reflexes taking over where there was no thought process involved. This had happened before, a voice whispered in her head.

Again she couldn't grasp the memory or even pieces of it.

"I don't know where you'll be Harry," she called after him. But her voice didn't carry over the slamming door.

_Jerk!_ She thought. She had no idea why she felt like crying.

Harry didn't realize he had no change of clothes for practice tomorrow until he was already gone. But he refused to turn back and get some. He would just come back tomorrow after he knew she was gone.

Standing at the gate, Harry sighed closing his eyes. Struggling to contain the irritation he felt, both with her and himself.

As he walked up to the house, he realized his future was at stake. This had been his parent's house, Filled with love and warmth from what he could gather.

That was why he wanted to fix it up. He remembered the night he told her his dream of living there. They were at her flat. He had decided to sell his after they were married and they were completely comfortable.

Her eyes danced with excitement as she sat and listen to all his ideas with the house. She told him how much it touched her heart that he wanted to share something so special to him with her.

They both laid wrapped in each other for hours, discussing ideas on what they both wanted. That was the night she confided her dream bedroom.

Harry paused, remembering the fact that a different Hermione was before him now. He shook off the memory. Thinking about it now wasn't going to do him any good.

Harry forced himself to focus on the positive. At least he was sleeping on a bed tonight. That was if he could sleep.

Which he couldn't.

After about four hours of tossing and turning on the bed, he gave up. The food he bought earlier stilled lay heavy on his stomach. It had been too greasy and left him feeling nauseated.

He chalked it up to his sleeplessness, though in his heart he knew better. Knew it had nothing to do with his choice of dinner.

He missed her. He missed "them." And more than that, he was beginning to fear that maybe she was never coming back into his life. That they wouldn't be "them" again.

Rolling over, he stared up at the ceiling, watching the moving shadows by the full moon dance through the trees by the window. Hermione was stubborn enough to keep him out of reach. He knew that.

And he knew she meant what she said. She didn't sleep with strangers. What if she intended to keep him a stranger until her memory came back?

Taylor stared into the empty fireplace across the room, trying to think. Trying to visualize the rest of his life without Hermione. He couldn't.

Hell, every time he went away to one of his games, he threw himself into practice and playing, sometimes he would just stay out on the field because he couldn't face the emptiness of his hotel room without her.

Some of his fellow teammates always tried to get him to come out with them, but many of them were still bachelors and that life no longer interested him. He didn't want it anymore.

So he would just settle for practicing non-stop or listening to Ron talk about Luna.

So what were his options? If Hermione had no memory of him…

If Hermione had no memories of him, he was going to have to give her new ones, he decided suddenly. Much as he hated the idea of starting over, Ron was right in what he said this morning.

He was going to have to make up his mind to win Hermione all over again. To "court" her.

Harry covered his face and groaned. After having enjoyed the pleasure of marriage for the past two years, it was going to be hard to go back to square one.

To take baby steps until he finally reached the same footing he'd been on just a few days ago. Damn hard. But then, he didn't have any other option left. Other than to walk away completely, and it went without saying that he would have rather died than do that.

Hermione was the center of his world, even though he'd never told her as much. Without her, there was no reason to go on.

Okay, he decided, that was the plan. Pretending that the woman he loved more than anything wasn't his wife but someone he had to win over.

He'd done it once, he could do it again. How hard could it be right? Harry frowned. Very hard, as he recalled. Part of the reason was that he'd never had to go out of his way to get companionship before.

Women always came on to him. If he wanted a date, all he had to do was say it and he had one. With Hermione he'd had to actively pursue her, once he realized he loved his best friend.

The road to the altar had been bumpy, because with Hermione things didn't always go according to plan. But that was okay. That was what made her Hermione. And desirable.

Harry lay back down on the bed. He laced his fingers together and tried to assume a calm pose, willing himself to sleep. Who the hell was he kidding? He thought three minutes later.

He was wired and wide- awake, ready to jump-start his plan. But he knew he wouldn't make any progress with her if he turned up at home at two in the morning.

With a sigh that went down to his toes, Harry got up. He might as well do something as he waited for dawn to come.

Twelve hours later he was finished with practice, showered, shaved, changed and walking through the rear of the phone booth and heading toward Hermione's office.

Just his luck, he ran into several people he recognized, who also recognized him. He was forced to nod a silent greeting at all of them.

He knew them by sight if not by name. They were all part of the ministry "family."

Did the "family" know? He wondered. As he passed by one of the men, he saw the man looking at him. Was that a knowing look or just a curious one?

Damn it he felt like a fool, but it was too late to turn back now. The questions continued nagging at him. Had Hermione told people about her accident? About conveniently cutting him out of her memory bank?

"Nice bouquet," a redheaded woman in rimless glasses told him. "She'll love them."

God he hoped so.

As he headed to her office, he felt uneasy. The desire to run like hell played with his determination to see this through. Determination won by a small margin. He'd always been a private person, putting himself up for a possible let down in front of all these people wasn't exactly keeping it private. But he had to do something.

His hand tightened on the flowers he was holding. If he wanted to continue living with Hermione, he was going to have to let a lot of things ride for the time being.

Hermione hummed softly as she placed the file off to the side. She'd just finished reading the complaint on another faulty ward. She was happy she was able to fix it.

Smiling at her partner Evan she stood up to stretch. "Want to get something to eat?" Evan asked eagerly.

"No, thanks, I've got a few things to catch up on." She replied.

Evan nodded. "See you later, then." As the newest member of the Ministry "family", Evan was still trying to find his way.

_Aren't we all?_ She thought cryptically.

About to walk around her desk to go to the loo, Hermione looked up and stopped dead. The man in her wedding photographs was coming toward her office. What was he doing here?

She felt her heart flutter and told herself she was light headed because she didn't eat. When Harry stormed out last night, he'd mysteriously taken her appetite with him.

She didn't get much sleep last night and this morning Neville had commented that she should use her wand to erase the dark circles from beneath her eyes.

Damn it, he was all right. He'd made her worry for nothing. Even though she couldn't remember him in her life, she didn't want anything happening to him because of her, and she didn't know if he was capable of doing something drastic.

But now that she saw him in one piece, she felt her anger flaring. After he'd walked out last night, she wasn't sure where they stood. Or even _if_ they stood anywhere at all.

Even as her heart did a strange flutter at the sight of him, Hermione could feel herself stiffen inside. She had no explanation for it. Boy, did she wish her wand could be waved over her brain and make it come back to normal.

"What's that" She nodded at his hand.

Harry glanced at his offering, it was a last minute thought. He pulled them from the garden in backyard of his parent's house. His and Hermione's house soon enough.

"Flowers." He replied shrugging.

"I know they're flowers," she said impatiently. "What are they doing in your hand?"

"Currently?" he said studying them for a moment. "Wilting."

He thrust the flowers toward her, feeling quite daft. "They're your favorite. White daisies."

She took them with both hands, trying not to let the gesture touch her. "Yes, I know."

"Right." Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something about how she seemed to remember everything but him, but there was no point to it.

His job was to create a place for himself in her world. "I was thinking maybe if you're free, we could have lunch."

Shifting the flowers over to one hand, Hermione looked at her watch. "It's after two," she said.

Harry dug in, suddenly feeling that if he didn't make some kind of connection, some kind of break- through soon, he might never be able to. He needed to make just one step forward, just one.

"A late lunch. An early dinner. Something on a plate doesn't matter what we call it. Just come out with me."

She looked down at the flowers for a second. She'd always loved daisies. They were so light, so free. "I have to get back by four-thirty."

Harry sighed. "Is that a no?"

"No." She let a smile curve her lips. "That's a time limit."

Harry smiled for the first time in almost three days. "Okay, then. I can work with that." About to take her hand, he stopped. "Do you mind?" he asked.

His thoughtfulness surprised her. And pleased her. "No," she said quietly, "I don't mind."

She told herself it was only static electricity that shot through her when they walked hand and hand out the door.

**Well folks there it is, Chapter 4. The next one will be out soon. Please review and let me know how you like it.**


	5. Making Progress

**Hey guys, I know it's been a long time, but things have been crazy in my life and I'm sure you really don't want to here me cry about it. So here is the next chapter and please review….**

**Chapter 5- Making Progress**

Hermione welcomed the cool breeze as it rushed over her. It seemed to neutralize the effect of the static electricity

that snuck up on her a minute ago. Seeing as the silence showed no sign of lifting, she sighed looking at him.

"So what's the occasion?" She asked Harry.

Harry couldn't help but pick up on the uneasiness in her voice. He thought they had finally made a break through back at her office. So much for that he thought bitterly.

Harry looked at her. In general, he found a lot of Hermione's questions to be enigmatic, but now that she thought they were strangers, he felt really lost, without a clue on how to take her anymore.

"What do you mean?" he asked, holding open the door to their chosen restaurant.

Hermione didn't answer as the hostess walked them to their seat. Both of them just sat silently as they grabbed the

menus. Hermione opened the menu to see what looked good.

"The flowers you brought" she finally said from behind the menu.

Harry drew his brows in confusion; then he remembered the question he had asked her before they were seated.

He began to wonder if maybe the scans done by Seamus had missed something. Was her short-term memory going,

too? Harry didn't bother opening his menu. Instead he placed it off to the side.

"I thought we already had this conversation Hermione." He said evenly.

Hermione paused to smile as the waitress brought their glasses of water. "No, it stopped somewhere around when

you said they were wilting. The next thing you said was that they were my favorite."

"Right" Harry nodded, looking away from the blushing waitress.

"I'll have the turkey sandwich on wheat bread, Mustard, no mayo or lettuce. And a lemonade," she told the waitress who nodded, and blushed when she turned toward Harry.

"Same," he sighed, surrendering his menu to the giggling young witch.

Hermione observed the waitress's startling behavior. She couldn't remember if she had been here before. Maybe they had come here often.

That had to be it; people were looking at them as if they knew them. Narrowing her eyes, she glanced at the waitress. Well apparently they knew Harry.

Hermione watched as the girl practically drooled on her "husband". She tried to tell herself she didn't care; yet something about it seemed to sit wrong with her.

He was Harry Potter for crying out loud, why was the girl acting as if he was some celebrity, she screamed inside her head, while simply sitting there desperately trying to hold on to the fake smile planted firmly on her face.

Watching the girl flirt with him had her upset. Oh yes. Very upset. But what sent her senses flaring was the fact that it did get to her.

She didn't understand it nor could she explain it, so she just sat back. As soon as this girl walked away, she was going to ask about the sudden interest in him.

The woman nodded at Hermione, and turned to leave but not before she winked in Harry's direction. Okay now it was time for him to talk. Before she opened her mouth, she caught his facial expression.

He seemed to be aggravated and a little uncomfortable, deciding maybe it wouldn't be the best time to discuss the waitress and his celebrity status, Hermione sighed. She would just have to wait till later to bring it up.

Sipping her water, Hermione raised her eyebrows. "So why did you bring them?" she asked trying to bring back the conversation. "The flowers,"

She repeated in case he forgot what they were discussing before the waitress came over and did everything but throw herself in his lap.

Hermione's question took Harry back to when he first met her. That first day on the train, before trust and friendship entered the picture.

He'd almost forgotten this habit of hers. Hermione used to view everything as suspicious. He figured later on in their lives that it was her defense mechanism. He learned that back when she had his broom confiscated.

And, if he correctly remembered, she later confided in him and Ron, she almost felt they only befriended her in the beginning for help with their schoolwork. Of course they shot that down in a heartbeat and thank god she believed them.

It had taken a great deal of patience on his part to convince her that not only was she his friend, she was his family. As far as he was concerned, she meant the world to him. Around her he was just Harry.

The waitress materialized with their lemonades, then, flashing yet another smile to Harry retreated again. Doing his best to ignore the silly girl, Harry countered her question with one of his own.

"Why does anyone bring flowers to a woman?" he asked.

Brown eyes met green. "To get something."

He thought for a moment before giving her an answer. "I suppose, in a way, you're right."

He saw her stiffen ever so slightly. Someone else might have not caught it, but he was well aware of every nuance, every gesture that went into making Hermione the woman she was.

"And what is it that you want to get?" she said wincing.

He could have cut the suspicion radiating from her with his wand. "Into your favor." He replied.

She tossed her bushy hair over her shoulder. It was a movement she did when she felt she had found the answer to some unknown problem.

"And into other places?" she said knowingly.

There was no point in denying that. It was his ultimate goal. To have her as his wife again.

"Eventually. When you remember me." He shrugged.

"And if I don't?" she asked. "If my memories of you never come back, what then?"

He picked up his glass of lemonade and took a sip before answering.

"Then I' going to make you want to remember me." He told her.

This guy was good looking. More than good looking, and she had to admit something was defiantly sparking between them. But she absolutely hated egotist. She found it hard to believe she actually married one.

"Pretty confident in yourself, aren't you?" Her eyebrow rose to show annoyance

His Emerald eyes held hers for a long moment. So long that she felt something scrambling in her stomach, and she was certain it wasn't hunger pangs. At least, not for food.

His voice was soft and slow, as he leaned forward and said, "Let's just say that in this one instance, I believe in history repeating itself."

She did what she could to cut him dead. The smile on her lips was icy.

"And you swept me off my feet the first time around, right?"

Harry laughed, "Nobody sweeps you off your feet, Hermione. But I did manage to lift you off the ground a couple of inches."

Was that humor he saw creeping to the corners of her mouth? Or was it just that sly, cynical look that sometimes came over her face? At that moment it was hard to tell. He was hoping for the former.

"Which is nothing compared to what you've done for me," he added.

Hermione stared at him, his meaning momentarily lost on her. She sincerely doubted he was saying what it sounded like he was saying.

"Nothing compared to what I've done for you, what?" she asked. "I doubt I've done that much for you in your life." She added.

Harry took a deep breath. She didn't think she had done much for him. She held him together all those years at Hogwarts. She welcomed him into her life when all others had shunned him. Hermione was his best friend. She gave up so much to help him defeat Voldemort. She simply saw him as Harry, not the boy who lived.

Because of her, Harry Potter knew love.

The list could go on and on, but seeing as she was waiting for a response, Harry took another deep breath. It wasn't easy for him to make these kinds of personal admissions.

He wasn't the kind to put his feelings into words, or bare his soul. He'd always been pretty closemouthed. But over the years he found it easier to talk to her. Let her know how he felt, open up his heart and let go of the pains from his childhood.

But this Hermione didn't remember his brush with death, or her many sacrifices for him. And right now he needed to remember that. If he went to talking of Dark wizards she just might run far away from him. Her mind was too jumbled to accept that right now. And if decided to go that way, he stood to lose the reason Harry Potter had any feelings at all.

He paused before he opened his mouth. It was best if he turned this conversation back to the relationship at stake rather than expose his past once again. Right now wasn't the time or place to rehash old wounds for either of them.

"Dissolve the ground beneath my feet." He finally told her. "I thought we could maybe start over."

Hermione couldn't help the small smile that escaped. He looked so damn uncomfortable. Suddenly she wasn't any more. She was actually enjoying herself. Hermione leaned back and looked at him.

"And just what would we be starting over?" she asked grinning.

To anyone else, she might have sounding seductive. But he knew better. Knew her inside and out and yet she still surprised him.

_I miss you, damn it. Come back to me, Mione._

"Stop with the innocent act, Hermione," he said aloud. "In case you haven't caught on, I'm trying my best here to court you."

"Court me." She repeated the term in disbelief. "I don't know you…"

How many times were they going to rehash this?

"That's just the problem." He said.

Hermione continued as if he never interrupted her. He'd missed her meaning entirely. "But you don't strike me as the type of man who uses the word "court". If ever," she added.

Merlin, how did this always happen? How did she manage to twist things around so that he lost sight of his original meaning, his original goal? Did she take joy in confounding him like this, even if she couldn't remember him?

"Maybe it's because I don't know what other word to use." He spat.

Realizing that he was very close to shouting, Harry made an effort to lower his voice. Taking a second to get himself back in control, he decided he might as well tell her and get the embarrassment over with.

It was better that way. Safer. Hermione had an uncanny knack of finding things out, anyway.

"Because, it was Ron's word. Happy now." He sighed, knowing his face was glowing red that very moment.

Just then the giggling waitress returned with their food, dropping her smile and quickly rushing off to another table, once she locked eyes with Hermione.

Smiling smugly Hermione returned her gaze to Harry to continue the interesting conversation. "And why would Ron be saying the word "Court" around you?"

It probably would have gone better for him if he had just taken credit for it himself. But he'd never believe in lies, even ones that put him in her graces. After all lies were just too difficult to keep track of.

"Because that was what he suggested I do with you."

Then, because she seemed so eager to believe the worst, he said cryptically.

"Me, I'd just as soon lock you up in the house, wave my wand over your mind until you finally came to your senses and remembered me."

Hermione looked down at her sandwich. Lost in the image he just created, she all but squeezed it flat in the middle. She made a conscious effort to relax her fingers, at the same time eyeing him darkly.

"Now _that_ sounds like you." She hissed.

Harry figured at that point he'd put up with just enough. She was willing to cast him in the role of an awful husband. Awful person really, and he resented it.

"How would you know?" he spat.

How would she know? The question echoed in her brain like a bell. She had no answer for that. At least, not for herself. But she wasn't about to let him know that. Hermione knew that when you didn't have all the answers, people tried to give you theirs, and suddenly you were no more than an extension of them.

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "Instinct, I suppose."

Harry came very close to throwing up his hands and leaving the restaurant. But walking away meant he'd be alone. Without her. And he'd already been there.

He was in this for long run; ready to do whatever it took. He'd had a life with Hermione Granger and without Hermione Granger- and with was definitely better.

"Hermione, I'm trying here. Work with me please." He sighed.

What had her marriage been like? Had he made her surrender pieces of herself without realizing it was too late? Was that why she couldn't remember him? There had to be a reason.

But if that was the reason, she knew he would never tell her. She was on her own here.

Hermione looked at him for a long moment. "And what's in it for me?" she asked.

He wanted to shout at her that she'd asked an absurd question. But he knew her, knew the old Hermione before she became his Hermione. And she was afraid of being caught off guard. Afraid of being vulnerable.

"At the risk of sounding vain…me," he answered. "And our marriage."

Okay, she would put the question to him just too see what his answer would be. Not that she expected him to be honest with her, but it might be entertaining to watch him squirm.

"If our marriage was so special, why did I forget it? Why did I forget you?"

"That is something we need to find out." Harry placed his hand over hers, then turned it over and held it for a moment. He had to admit he was a little surprised as well as gratified that she didn't pull away.

"We can't do it if you keep fighting me at every turn."

The smile that emerged on her lips was soft. A little bit of hope soared through his heart.

" I can't help it," she told him. "It's what I do."

It was a moment, a tiny moment, but he cherished it.

"I know. But maybe if you fight just a little less, we might get somewhere."

Under the pretext of getting back to her food, she separated her hand from his.

"Okay." She said.

And then, just as she bit into her sandwich, a question came to her. She raised her eyes to his.

"Does this mean you're moving back in?" she asked.

"I never exactly moved out. All I had were the clothes on my back," he reminder her. "But yes, I'm back in."

She chewed on his answer as she ate her lunch.

"All right," she agreed gamely, her stomach fluttering slightly. "But the tape stays up."

Every time he thought he was making the slightest bit of progress, she'd turn around and come up with a way to negate it.

"Hermione…"

Lifting her finger at him, she didn't let him finish his protest. "If you were 'courting' me." Hermione said, "You would be living in your own flat."

"House," he corrected. He'd been living in his godfather's old house.

"Whatever," she allowed, "and I'd be living in mine. But since we both obviously live in that creepy death trap, having the rooms separated with tape is the next best thing."

There was nothing "best" about having to face tape snaking its way through every room of your house, Harry thought grudgingly. But if that was the only way to get his wife to live with him. So be it.

He had no choice but to agree to her terms, because he needed them to be together in order to make his plan work. As far as plans went, it was very simple one.

If he couldn't make Hermione remember that there was a place for him in her heart, then he was just going to have to create one there all over again.

He just hoped he was up to it.

Placing her hand out to him Hermione smiled. "Do we have a deal?"

Her eyes were on his face. As if she could tell if he was telling the truth or not by watching his expression. She didn't remember how well he could mask his emotions, he thought. She really didn't remember him at all.

The thought hit him for the dozenth time. And still hurt just as much as it had the first time.

Harry absolutely hated this position he found himself in. Hated having to go through these charades. Hated having her look at him and know that she wasn't seeing him the way she'd come to see him all those years ago.

That the full spectrum of the past ten years they'd shared had completely vanished from her memory and now only existed in his.

It was almost like being a widower. But, damn it; he was going to bring his wife back from the dead.

Harry wrapped his strong fingers around the hand she held out. "Deal"

It took her a minute to release her hand from his. Just for the slightest fleeting moment, as his fingers had joined with hers, she'd experienced a sensation she couldn't quite name.

She felt…safe for lack of a better term.

But that was just an illusion, and she knew better than to give in to it. If anything it made her feel utterly unsafe the very next moment.

She threaded her fingers together, forming a bridge before her.

"Just so you know," she told him sweetly, "I'll hex you to hell if you try anything underhanded."

Damn, here was the spirit that had first attracted him. The spirit that kept reeling him in when it was smarter to swim in the opposite direction.

"What about the muggle saying," he posed, "all's fair in love and war'?"

She waved a hand, dismissing the sentiment. "Coined by a old eunuch."

And she was probably the one who had done the honors, he thought. This was going to be one hell of a challenge.

An unexpected late-summer shower had cast the sky in a gray blanket by the time he returned to Godric Hollow. Because of his mood, Harry made do with very little illumination. There was just enough light to allow him to see what he was doing and no more.

When Draco found him, he commented that batman had more light in his cave than was presently available here.

"I like it dark," Harry all but growled as he took one final look at the door he had fixed up.

"I take it that things aren't going well on the home front. Weasley told me about his suggestion."

Sighing Harry looked up at him. "She liked the idea."

"Terrific," Draco said. "I had a feeling she might come around when he told me about it." And then Draco paused, reading his friend's expression.

"But, correct me if I'm wrong, you're less then thrilled about this."

"She's my wife, Malfoy. It'll feel weird treating her like a girlfriend." Harry admitted.

"Well technically, she's neither right now…"

Draco stopped once Harry glared at him and smiled.

"At least you're not walking into something blindly. Most guys have no idea if they're compatible with the girl they're going out with. You already know a lot of things ahead of time." He added.

"Yeah, like she's got a mean left hook once she gets angry," Harry smirked, knowing Draco hated having that incident in third year thrown at him.

"That's the kind of thing I'm talking about," Draco laughed sarcastically. He stepped around so Harry could see him.

"Look, think of it as a way of breathing new life into your marriage." He said.

"My marriage had plenty of life," Harry retorted.

"Sorry," he apologized the next minute.

Draco seemed not to hear him. He was obviously still exploring what he'd just said.

"A lot of guys start taking their wives for granted. Having to win her all over again will shake things up for you."

That was the last thing he needed. "Things are already shaken up," Harry pointed out. " And what makes you such the expert on marriage, anyway?" he asked wiping his hands on his pants.

"You've only been married six months."

"Nine," Draco corrected. "And many of the guys at the ministry are married. They talk Harry, whether it was about wives or live in girlfriends. It sounds like once they say 'I do,' they don't."

Harry didn't quite follow. "Don't what?"

Draco looked around at the progress Harry was making on Godric Hollow. "This is coming along nicely, Potter."

"Thanks. You were saying? Don't what?" Harry repeated.

"Don't enjoy themselves anymore with the woman they promised to love and cherish."

Harry knew the statistics. Knew that half the marriages these days ended up in divorce. Hermione had told him that, when a teammate of his spilt with his wife. She had said people took the easy way out rather than sticking it out and fighting for their marriage.

His mouth curved. Hermione certainly had the fighting part down pat.

"It wasn't like that with Hermione and me." Harry pointed out.

Draco knew that. As the months of the marriage went by, he'd noticed a new calmness about his friend that he hadn't seen before. He figured it had to do with living with Harry.

"All the more reason to get her to come around again." He paused.

"Does seem funny, though, her losing her memory of you. Blanking out about the accident is normal. A lot of people suffer shock after something like that and they block out what their subconscious feels is a life threatening event."

"I've seen it many times at the Ministry, as well as you have Potter." He continued. "But to forget someone like a husband…Have you figured out what might have prompted her to do that?"

"If I did, you'd be the first to know," Harry said. "You want to give me a hand?" he asked.

Being the prat he was known for Draco looked from Harry to the door, smirked and began clapping.

"Ha, ha git," Harry retorted. "Levitate the door, would ya."

Smirking Draco fetched his wand from the pocket of his robes and began to levitate it across the room.

"Just taking the mickey, where do you want it?" he asked once it crossed the living room halfway.

"Over by the entrance I guess," Harry decided.

As he lead the door toward the entrance Draco decided to press his point a little more.

"Everything between the two of you okay?" he asked.

Harry raised his eyes as he studied his friend.

"I'm asking as a friend Potter." He added.

"Okay, 'friend'," Harry replied evenly. He knew Draco was just being concerned and while he would rather keep it to himself, he did appreciate the support he knew was there.

"Everything between us was fine." Harry sighed. "Oddly enough, given Hermione's love of combat, there were no knock down, drag out arguments before he left to play his game. Things were great. She did seem a little off."

He recalled,

"But she said she was okay, just a touch of the flu." He added.

"Hell." Harry said, "We were even talking about having a family."

"Really, what? Gin and me have discussed children too; with the way her family reproduces thank god I got money. Well, that's great Harry."

And then Draco paused, looking at his friend, not quite sure of what he was seeing. "That's great, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry allowed. "Eventually. Maybe. But not right now though. She loves her job and I'm on the road from time to time. Not to mention, I'm not quite sure I'm cut out for fatherhood."

Draco looked at him incredulously. Hell he didn't have the best father to learn from either, but that wasn't going to stop him from having children with his wife.

"Har…"

Harry held up his hand, knowing exactly where Draco was going.

"Yeah, I know, I wont be like the Dursley's and I have a great life, a wonderful wife and more money than I could ever spend. Hermione had these same arguments. I just don't think I can do it okay."

Draco just shook his head. "I hope one day, you know how wrong you are my friend."

Crossing his arms Draco continued to stare at Harry. "So you said Hermione had the same points eh? What did she say in the end?"

"She agreed," Harry said simply.

Draco's blond eyebrows drew together. "She didn't fight you on changing your mind, not even for principle's sake?"

"No." Harry answered.

Draco's puzzled expression deepened. "Doesn't sound like Hermione"

Harry nodded. "That's what I mean. She was finally mellowing out a little." He sighed. "And now I'm back to square one."

Sighing Draco slapped his shoulder. "Just hang in there and eventually she will remember you."

"Thanks _Luna_," Harry laughed dryly as he stepped back. "I'll try to remember that."

"Hey it could be worse." Draco argued.

"How?" Harry wanted to know. "How could it possibly be any worse than having your wife forget who you are?"

Draco shrugged, "She could remember," He teased, tongue-in-cheek, "and hate the sight of you."

This time Harry really did laugh. It helped knock off a little of the tension. "I guess you've got a point there."

Harry leaned against the wall and sighed. It was getting darker now and much of his light was gone. He should just call it a day and go.

"Don't you have a little woman to be heading home to?" He asked Draco.

Laughing Draco eyed him. "If she hears you call her that, you'll be the one without a memory. Because she will have ripped your head off."

Harry grinned. "Please Ginny is just as mild tempered as my wife." And then his expression sobered a little.

"Hang in there, Potter." Draco said walking toward the door.

"Have to," Harry told him. "I don't have any other choice."

From the moment he first realized he loved her as he saw her standing in the moonlight beside Raphael and laughing at something the man was saying, he knew that there was no other choice for him but Hermione.

And if the road was bumpy sometimes, well, that just made him appreciate the smooth times that much more.

As he approached the house, he saw there was no light on. Granted it was only six in the evening but the inside of the house tended to be dark.

Uneasiness crept over him as he made his way to the house, looking for a glimmer to indicate she was home. Today was her early day.

Once he got inside he found she was gone. Was she just out somewhere or had she abruptly decided to leave? And if it was the latter, where did he go to look for her? He had no idea where to start.

The silence that greeted him as he entered was eerie. Harry closed the door behind him feeling totally alone. She was supposed to be here, he thought irritably.

They were supposed to spend the evening together. This "courting" thing was going to slowly. He'd been at it for over a week, and the more time they spent together; the more chances he had at getting her to remember him.

And love him all over again.

Thirsty and angry, he entered into the kitchen to get a drink of water. Which was when he saw it. A note written and posted on the counter.

Harry

Forgot I had a night out with Luna and Gin. Be home later.

Hermione.

That was it. No real salutation, no small heart drawn at the end of the note the way she always closed her notes to him. Nothing.

He supposed he should be happy that she'd at least let him know where she was. He didn't feel very happy.

Harry crumpled the note and tossed it in the direction of the trashcan. He missed, and the misshapen paper ball fell on the floor. Muttering under his breath, he went to retrieve it.

There was a length of yellow tape right in front of the trashcan. Harry ripped it away, uttering a few words he rarely said.

And Merlin help him, saying them didn't make him feel any better.

**Sorry for the late update guys. Chapter 6 will be out by next weekend I promise. Thank you for the reviews everyone and I hope you continue to read the story.**

**Please remember to review, I can't wait to read them…..**


	6. A night out leads too

Sorry for the long, long wait but things are better now, no more stops from here on out, if anyone is still reading this story…. 

Chapter 6- A night out leads too….

Picking up the crumpled paper and shoving into the trash, Harry sighed. He hated comparing himself to a broken record, but he never got the sweet end of the deal. Damn it, what was he doing, chasing his future and trying to recapture his past? He sure as hell didn't need this. He kept reminding himself.

But what he did need was Hermione. And the sooner he stopped parading around like a transparent ball of anger, the sooner he could reach his goal.

He had to reach his goal, he thought. Had to win her over _again_ if that's what it took.

Although he should get some sleep or work on a plan of sorts, Harry could think of a lot of better ways to spend his Friday night than force his brain into overload. He was going to call Ron and Draco, spend some time with friends. Let everything sit on the back burner for a bit. Because that was exactly what Hermione was doing.

All he had to do was locate the whereabouts of Ron, and then grab Draco. Harry smiled to himself when he crossed to the counter to pick up his drink and spotted a report on house elves rights Hermione had been working on.

Apparently her habits hadn't changed. At least the ones that didn't involve him, he thought grudgingly. Harry began looking through the paragraphs, vaguely remembering when she first embarked on her journey with S.P.E.W.

He had more serious matters to contend with, so equal right among creatures was the last thing he paid attention to when they were growing up. But after the war, because it was so important to her and because equal rights among creatures played such a significant part in their world, he tried to work up an interest.

What Hermione cared about, she cared about passionately. There was no middle ground with her. She was the same with people.

Having been on the receiving end of her passion in the past, he was terribly aware of its lack He needed to be on its receiving end again, as much as he needed to breathe.

Most of all he needed her to look at him the way she did before the accident.

Placing the report back in an organized manner, Harry quickly apperated to Ron's.

Hermione wasn't conscious of wrapping her arms around herself as she watched the couples sway across the dance floor. It all seemed too much to bear, as she felt the emptiness consume her body. She couldn't understand where it was all coming from. She didn't remember him, so why on earth was she feeling so alone?

Luna finally made her way back to the table, followed by Ginny, quickly placing the glasses in the air as two drunken wizards passed.

"I swear, you'd think they would know when to quit". Ginny laughed rolling her eyes.

"Don't count on it," Luna huffed. "Firewhiskey and wizards go hand in hand, right Hermione?"

Hermione nodded, before taking a sip of her own Firewhiskey.

"Just as much as it does with us witches, I suppose." She laughed.

Brushing back her long red hair, Ginny giggled. "Yet, another thing we witches are better at."

"Care to wager on it?" came a voice from the left of Luna.

With her brow raised in question, Luna smiled. "Can I help you?" she asked, quickly rolling her eyes to Ginny and Hermione.

"Todd Williams" he said sitting down. "Looks like you're going to have to pay up, ladies," rubbing his hands together several times, indicating that they may as well start separating their gallons now.

Hermione tensed up as the man extended his hand to Luna. "I don't believe you were asked to join us

Todd. This is a _girl's_ night out, I'm afraid," she spoke firmly.

His thin lips drew back as he gave her a grin that involved not only his teeth, but his gums as well.

Throwing his hands up in surrender, Todd chuckled. "I meant no harm…umm, excuse me I don't know your name."

"Never offered it," Hermione broke in.

"Hermione," Ginny gasped at her offense, earning her a nasty glare from the woman in question.

Aha…Hermione, well I was saying before, I really mean no harm..." Todd began once again

"Yeah, Todd and as I was saying before, my friends and I are having a girls night out, and would like very much to get back to that." Hermione countered.

Turning away from Hermione and Ginny, Luna smiled. "Please excuse my friends here. What exactly is it you want?"

"I am Luna by the way, Luna Weasley." She added for measure.

Once again Todd smiled a mega watt smile, "I couldn't help but overhear your beautiful red headed friend here state that witches can out drink wizards and with Firewhiskey no doubt."

"Seeing as this is impossible, I am willing to bet and prove you wrong." He smiled.

Laughing, Ginny finished off her drink, and stared at the man. "And what exactly is the reward once we win." She asked.

"Ginny, we are hardly going to hold a drinking contest." Hermione spat.

"Really, Gin." Luna agreed.

"And why not," she gasped automatically. "We can win, and if the stakes are good enough, no point in not helping our fellow witches."

Hermione looked at Ginny with mock horror, while Luna shrugged.

"Luna, please don't tell me you're going to allow this," Hermione sighed.

Shrugging, Luna put down her glass. "I never said yes, Mione but we can at least hear the man out"

"Great," Todd clapped then motioned his hand toward the table at the opposite side of the bar.

"Here are the stakes. You claim witches are better than wizards, I say not. If we lose…You're drinks are on my friends and I for the remainder of the evening." Todd began.

"And if we lose?" Ginny asked.

"We each get to know you three better," Todd grinned, as two men came up behind him.

"Scott, Lance, meet Hermione, Luna and Ginny" Todd said introducing his friends.

"Well, I'm afraid you're out of luck Todd, see we are all married." Luna replied blushing as Scott winked at her.

Sighing Todd shook his head. "Shame, but we could always settle for a dance. That seems innocent enough, agreed."

Nodding Luna laughed. "Sounds fair, but I'm not sure it's a good idea." she smiled.

"I agree," Ginny added. "My husband would freak out"

Refusing to give up Todd sighed. "Ladies, it is just a dance, what happened to your sure win hmm? I promise we won't go to hard on you." He smirked.

Lanced laughed "It's not like a little dance can make you forget your husband, we will behave"

Hermione's head shot up and her eyes narrowed. Luna whimpered looking at her face. This guy just messed up big time and the poor bloke didn't have a clue.

Ginny held her breathe, as she waited for the outcome, but she never expected what followed next.

"What did you say?" Hermione demanded.

"I said one dance couldn't hurt, and it won' make you forget you're husband." Lance said clearly confused.

Leaning down, Hermione lifted her purse from off the floor. Luna made a move to grab her arm, expecting her wand to reveal itself. Needless to say she was shocked, when a second later Hermione's wallet slammed on the table top.

Smirking, Hermione pulled out twenty gallons, "You can have your dance, but I'll see your wager by twenty gallons too."

Todd looked like he just won the lotto and reached for his wallet. Placing twenty gallons on the table, he smiled.

"I will add to your wager, Mione" he said.

"We do too," said Lance and Scott as forty more gallons floated to the table.

"Hermione, Merlin, you're drunk all ready?" Ginny cried.

"Not even close, Gin. Luna you guys in?" she asked, her eyes never leaving Todd's.

There never responded as both hurried to grab their purses.

Hermione smiled and her eyes went back to Lance and Scott then Todd.

"Oh and boys, I assure you, these three witches are not about to lose."

Harry sighed as he sat on Draco's couch, tossing a small vase back and forth to Ron as they waited.

"Malfoy, it's the bar for crying out loud," Ron yelled as he lifted the vase to throw back to Harry.

"Pardon me if I chose to look…Hey, put my vase down you gits" Draco hissed coming into the sitting room.

Catching Harry off guard with his presence, he missed the vase, and it shattered against the floor.

"That happened to be a priceless family heirloom, you wanker." Draco cried.

Trying to hide his laughter, Harry pointed his wand at the scattered pieces. Mouthing his spell, the vase quickly became whole again.

"No worries," he grinned sheepishly, getting a snicker from Ron.

"You think breaking my stuff is funny do you?" Draco asked clearly not amused.

Standing up Ron laughed, "Well, what did you expect us to do; you take longer than my sister to get dressed."

"Nobody takes longer than my wife to get ready. Potter, let's get going. I need a drink already." Draco smirked.

Harry nodded and they both were gone.

"Hey, you gits. Wait up" Ron cried before finally apperating himself.

Todd watched as Lance downed his sixth shot of Firewhiskey, They were ahead by one since Ginny sloshed some of her last shot down her chin.

Put off by his smart remarks about Ginny's last shot mishap, Hermione was hardly ready to throw in the towel. It wasn't the money, but the principle that was at stake. Not to mention he really rattled her with the husband comment. The stress since the accident, and her distant feelings for her said "husband" was what put her over the top.

Hermione smirked, even though she was pretty buzzed. "Well as the muggles say, it isn't over till its over. So don't start counting those gallons or that dance just yet,"

Todd laughed loudly. "Aye, true, true" winking he placed two shots in front of the girls, as Scott followed with the third.

"Okay, girls" Scott said. "We're down to the three shot combo, before we move back to singles."

"We are ahead by one, but if you can manage to drink all three shots down in less than 15 seconds, you'll lead." He finished.

"Piece of cake," Ginny slurred winking at Hermione. Grabbing her shot she was ready.

Luna, too far gone now, was holding her drink, with great determination.

Hermione sighed inwardly. This could put them in the lead, and she had all the faith in world they could pull it off. Grabbing up her shot, she smiled to her friends.

Luna would go first, followed by Gin and then herself. Fifteen seconds and they had the gold. Yep, the wizards were going down.

Hermione signaled Luna with a nod and the counter was set. During the past ten minutes, they had gathered quite a large crowd around the table. Some even throwing their own money down. There was no way they were leaving here tonight as losers.

Ron took in a deep breath once they entered the bar. The smell of chicken wings and Firewhiskey filled his nose and he sighed.

"I'm glad you came over Harry, I needed this. It's nice to get out with the boys." Ron grinned.

Rolling his grey eyes, Draco smirked. "Potter, I was unaware that there were any boys besides Weasley here. How many people did you invite?"

Laughing Harry shook his head, taking a minute to survey the bar. To the right of them there seemed to be quite a gathering of sorts, and he tapped Draco's shoulder.

"Wonder what's happening over there?" He nodded toward the crowd.

Shrugging Draco looked over Harry, trying to make out what was going on. His eyes widened as he swore he caught a glimpse of hair that strangely resembled his wife's through the gap of two witches.

His eye narrowed as he fought to see in between the witches who managed to scoot closer together much to his annoyance.

"Forget about it," Ron stated. "Let's go get some drinks, I need a…."

"LUNA, LUNA, LUNA. Go, go, go, go" The crowd shouted, causing Ron to shut his mouth and swing his eyes toward the group.

For a second neither of them moved, be it shock, or just plain anger, they didn't know. To his left Harry vaguely heard Ron curse and Draco growl.

"Bloody hell," Ron yelled heading toward the crowded table area.

"If Luna is there," Draco growled "Then so is my…."

"GINNY, GINNY…" came the crowd right on cue.

"Wife," he continued. "And yours too" he called, spotting Hermione's bushy hair.

All three men hit the crowd as the last of the girls was hailed.

"MIONE, MIONE, Go go, go…" they screamed and Harry, Ron and Draco pushed harder through the crowded tables.

"HA," Hermione yelled laughing. "Luna eight seconds, Gin four seconds, and Hermione three seconds."

"Looks like we are in the lead boys." Luna yelled, clearly buzzed beyond belief.

Lanced laughed, as he watched Hermione slam down her glass. She really was beautiful, shame she was married. She was definitely his type.

"Too right you are love, the witches have the lead for now" Scott winked at Luna

Todd placed the three shots down and chuckled. "I got to hand to the witches; you guys are starting to scare me."

"As we should" Ginny stuck out her tongue playfully.

"Well, our turn now then one final single and its game." Todd nodded to the guys.

"Get ready boys," He smirked.

"TODD, TODD" it began again. All three men forced through in haste once the new name came into earshot.

Hermione could feel her face growing hot as the Firewhiskey caught up with her. Taking the ice from a water cup she slowly popped it in her mouth, closing her eyes as the coolness was welcomed. Through the heat and the noise the moment was lost in peace, causing her to release a small moan.

In the next second Hermione was covered in Firewhiskey. Throwing open her eyes in shock Hermione wiped the droplets from her cheek.

Sitting there across the table was the most hilarious sight she ever had the pleasure in witnessing. Lance was staring at her, with his mouth wide open.

He had apparently just wasted his shot on her and she laughed the hardest she ever had recently.

"No fair, that didn't count" Scott moaned.

"Lance you git," Todd cried.

"What?" Lance whined. "But she was…with the ice and…"

Hermione giggled. "It certainly wasn't on purpose Lance,"

Todd smirked with a small smile.

Annoyed, and protective, Hermione was about to say something to put Todd in his place, reminding him that they had managed to come back from being behind a drink and it was their golden achievement. But before she got the chance someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Yes?" She said aware that all eyes in the booth had turned in her direction.

"There's a guy pushing through claiming to be your husband," the girl told her. "He says to let him through immediately." She shrugged.

Hermione smiled at the girl, and waved a hand dismissively to ward the crowd.

"Just someone trying to get to the front. We have a game to finish here, besides I don't have a husband" she said turning back toward the table.

At her comment Lance immediately snapped to attention and looked at her with new interest.

"She got a divorce?" Luna slurred causing Ginny to laugh out loud.

"Did you get one too?" Todd asked Ginny raising his eyebrows.

Ginny grinned shaking her head no, playfully once again sticking out her tongue.

"So, Hermione is divorced now?" Luna frowned.

"Luna, No I never" And then it came back to her. Harry. The wedding photos. The accident.

"Wait, Harry" she began but didn't get a chance to finish, as her attention was drawn to the tall, muscular Blond headed man who was coming from the back. The man never hesitated but headed straight for Ginny.

Just then a red headed man, towering a good foot over Luna sitting down came up; the man raised his eyebrows slightly, as if not a hundred percent sure he wasn't in a dream. It was no other than Ron.

A movement at the front of the crowd had her attention immediately. The same girl was pointing to Harry as he pushed past her.

She gulped then nodded. She'd forgotten. Again. "Yes, he's my husband."

Lanced frowned. He glanced at her hand. She was still wearing her wedding ring,

"Sure doesn't leave much of an impression on you, does he?" he asked her.

"That is none of you're concern bloody wanker" Harry spat looking at Lance with complete hatred in his eyes. Hermione didn't know how, but something told her Harry was surely fighting the urge to kill this man. Yet she sat there frozen.

But he does, she thought. That was the weird part. Every time she thought about the way he'd kissed her, she could feel her body tingling, responding like if never had before she thought.

Even now, as he stood in front of her with his dark blue polo shirt and jeans, with his hair looking untidy, and those emerald eyes piercing into her very soul. She could hardly breathe.

This man, her husband, looked like he would gladly kill anyone within five feet of the table and yet, all she could do was drink in his image and dare she say get aroused.

As he stood there staring at her, Hermione turned to look at Ginny and Draco.

"What are you doing here?" Draco spat at his wife.

"Draco, not here please" Ginny said knowing good and well she was in big trouble.

"We were playing a game Draco," Luna giggled obviously drunk.

Draco snorted, as Harry stepped up.

"Yeah well, with all the disrespect I can give to you guys, this game is definitely over." Harry stated harshly.

"And due to Hermione's ice show, we won." Luna said dreamily. Ron's eyes widen at Harry's growl.

"Okay, I guess it's fair" Todd said standing up. He didn't ant any trouble tonight and the blond guy was really creeping him out, the way he was gripping his wand.

With one last look at Hermione, Lance left the table without a word. Scott began to follow when Luna called to him.

"Scott, come meet my husband," she giggled holding on to Ron.

Ron gripped Luna closer to him, leaving Scott to turn tail and run. Luna turned sharply glancing at Ron.

"Luna, your drunk" he sighed.

He was so angry at her right now and he hated it. Tonight it would be pointless to fight. Sighing again he shook his head at Harry and apperated them both away.

Hermione looked at all the money on the table, and jumped to her feet.

"We won, Gin." She screamed, laughing "We won."

The next second, Hermione was throwing her arms around Harry. And then her mouth made contact with his. He was aware of tasting just the tiniest bit of Firewhiskey before his senses rose to another, more exhilarated level.

The sheer energy he felt was amazing. Harry needed no further encouragement. Pulling her to him, he wrapped his arms around her as he deepened the kiss she had begun. The rush she experienced was overwhelming. By the time Hermione finally broke away, she was literally gasping for air.

Blinking, she looked at Harry with new admiration. And something more

He was instantly alert; the complete bliss sustained from the kiss was moved to the back of his mind,

"What is it?" he asked. "Did you just remember something?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered, unconsciously touching her fingertips to her lips as she looked at him.

"Something." She whispered again.

But what that something was she couldn't tell. It was gone before she knew what it was. In its place was only the familiar frustration she come accustomed to since the accident. Hermione shook her head.

"I'm sorry" she sighed. Her eyes shifted to the man standing in front of her. Her pulse quickened again, the memory of that kiss returned to her full force.

The man sure knew how to kiss, she thought. One would think she'd remember that. And just the act of kissing him would bring it all back to her. Maybe he was right, if she didn't try so hard, it would come back to her.

She was bright, so she knew that if she relaxed instead of doing her damnedest to make it hard for the both of them; her memories would come back soon enough.

Maybe they came back to you if you didn't try so hard to_ make_ them come back.

Warmth and tension slipped over her at the same time Harry grabbed her hand.

"Ready to go home?" he asked, seeing as Draco left with Ginny screaming no doubt.

For once she felt no inclination to hold him off with words, or to get into a discussion over his presumption of her state. Despite the odd humming going on in her body, which she stubbornly chalked up as side affects of her drunken state, she didn't feel like challenging him tonight.

If anything, she felt rather agreeable.

"Yes," she told him. "I'm ready to go home."

There you have it the long awaited chapter 6; chapter 7 is half way done and will be up tomorrow. Chapter will come quickly now I assure you all, if any of you are still reading this that is….lol

Bra4goten


	7. A step forward

**A big hug to everyone who reviewed chapter 6. I was a bit worried you guys would have given up on this story a long time ago due to my lack of posting.**

**But you're here and I am going to finish this I promise. So here is chapter 7, just for my special people out there….. You guys don't know how happy I was to see the old names again lol…**

**Bra4goten**

**Chapter 7- A step forward**

Harry was on his way out the door and to the Quidditch pitch, when his watch caught his eye. It was purely out of habit rather then need. He knew he was still quite early yet, so it wasn't the time that had him perplexed; it was the date that was displayed just above the number eight.

September 3. Just a few weeks till her birthday. The day he'd proposed to her.

Hermione was only a few steps behind him. Her breakfast had consisted of black coffee and a sobering spell. It was just what she needed for her massive hangover. After this morning, she was sure there would be no more drinking games in her future.

Harry watched her move quickly through the kitchen grabbing papers, while desperately trying to hold on to her purse. Unlike him, she was in danger of running late this morning.

He knew she was beyond upset at this very possibility. Hermione possessed the finely tuned gift of punctuality, of gauging everything properly so that, barring some unforeseen, act of God, she was never late.

"Is something wrong?"

She asked summoning her earrings to her earlobes, then running her fingers over each ear to make sure they were both properly fastened.

Harry didn't move. He stood frozen in the doorway as if she somehow waved her wand over him.

Holding back her sigh, Hermione looked at him. She still wasn't used to Harry or having to share her space with him. And she was beginning to think she never would. It had been almost two weeks since the accident and her time is this funhouse with this man she didn't remember.

Except for tiny spurts of thoughts she couldn't seem to hold on too, nothing was coming back to her about him or the life he claimed they'd had. Somehow her mind had cut Harry Potter out of every single memory she had.

Was it motivated by talks of divorce? She wondered. Was that what had somehow opened up this mental black hole?

Suddenly realizing he never answered her, Harry sighed, "Nothing."

"Harry," she began.

Something in her voice made him turn around. Something about its tone told him she was about to follow it up with something he should brace himself for. As if having a wife who didn't know you anymore was not bad enough.

"Yeah?" He asked somewhat guarded, when he finally looked up.

"Were we getting a divorce?"

Harry groaned… "What?"

Hermione took a deep breath and asked again, only this time slower, as if she was seeking an answer from someone who was mentally impaired.

"Were we getting a divorce, talking about a divorce, getting help?" she repeated

"No," he barked. Then just in case she felt the need to go down the line again, he made it perfectly clear.

"No to all of them Hermione." Harry paused, looking at her face.

Her expression remained the same. Puzzled. That made two of them.

"Why?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders slightly.

"I just figure it had to be something of that extent for my mind to shut you out of my life."

At least she wasn't balking anymore at the idea that they were married, Harry thought. That was something, right?

"No, no major storm in our lives," he told her for what seemed like the hundredth time as he pushed her fallen piece of hair back.

It would have taken very little for him to grab her face and kiss her within an inch of her life, but instead he sighed and resisted the temptation, by letting his hand drop back to his side.

"Just a whole series of tiny ones." He said and gave her a small smile. "Like always."

Hermione fought back the shiver that spread throughout her body. Her pulse had accelerated. Harry's touch had seemed intimate, she didn't know why, but the slight gesture sent a wave of heat and she almost felt her forehead.

Although she was independent and guarded her space, in her heart of hearts, she felt a sort of deep pleasure taking over her body

A second ago he was ready to leave for work and keep his silence. But her thought that they were considering divorce had his defenses ready to strike.

"As a matter of fact," he told her, "today's the day I proposed to you."

Hermione searched her mind, desperately trying to recall the event but came up with nothing.

"It is?" she asked weakly

Harry nodded, "September third."

The man standing in front of her didn't strike her as the sensitive, sentimental type. More like the type who found remembering dates quite ridiculous.

She stared at him in shock.

"You remember the day you proposed to me? Most guys don't remember things like that."

"Yeah, well, I'm not like most guys." That was what he was trying to get her to see. That she'd said yes to him, even though the stakes were high. That made him different from all the other men she'd ever gone out with.

They were best friends. Friends weren't supposed to fall in love with one another. Yet they did risks and all.

Yesterday, in a moment of desperation, he'd flooed Seamus. It had taken sometime for Seamus to finally get a word in. He told him that it wasn't unusual that she still didn't remember. He told him to continue being nice and patient as well as surround Hermione with familiar things.

The last one now prompted him to say,

"Why don't we go to the place where I proposed when I get back tonight? Maybe that will help."

At this point , even though part of him had become okay with the thought of winning Hermione all over again, he was willing to try just about anything to move the process along.

Hermione caught her lip between her teeth, thinking.

"What time?"

He saw a _but_ coming and tried to beat it. "Any time you're free."

She flashed him what he knew was an apologetic smile.

"That's just it, I'm not. I mean, I promised to attend this ball for house elves. It's tonight. I said yes weeks ago Harry," she added.

The depths of his own patience surprised him as he asked her evenly,

"Do you have to stay for the whole event?"

She had planned to, but in light of what he just told her, she supposed she owed it to him to alter her evening.

"No, I guess I could leave early. I could say I had another engagement." Her mouth curved a she realized what she just said.

"No pun intended."

"Make all the puns you want, as long as we get this settled before I am as old as Dumbledore."

He thought for a second. "I'll come to the ball with you. That way, you can spend a little more time at the ball and then we can go to the restaurant from there."

She seemed surprised by his suggestion.

"But you don't like balls."

The words came out automatically, before she was even aware that they had occurred to her. Feeling uncomfortable, like being discovered, she tacked on,

"Do you?"

How did you know that?" he asked trying to contain his excitement and not jump to conclusions, he still grabbed her shoulders.

His emerald eyes searched hers, looking for a sign, a clue.

"Did you just remember something?"

Hermione managed to free herself from his grasps and spread out her hands blindly.

"It just came to me. Instinct, I guess." She looked up at him. "I don't know," she said honestly.

No one had ever accused Harry Potter of being an optimist. He didn't deserve the label after his countless times of claiming his upcoming doom with Voldemort, but right now he clung to this small tidbit she'd unwittingly thrown his way.

He had too, he gave him hope.

He needed to get going before they were both late. Still he lingered a moment longer. Willing her to find her way out of this whole mess.

"What time do you have to be at this ball?" he asked.

"Six."

Then, before he could ask her anything else, she said

"I have to meet up with Evan. Evan Waltertrap," she added in case she'd taken too much for granted.

She kept treating him like a newcomer to her life and it irritated him. Irritated him because he knew her better than anyone, even Ron.

"I know who Evan is, Hermione. You're the one with amnesia," he reminder her, "Not me."

Trying to remain calm, Hermione gave him a shrug.

"Well, I just don't know how much you know about my world." She sighed

"It's our world," he told her gruffly.

"Bits and pieces might be separate, but it's _our_ world, Mione, yours and mine."

Annoyance filled him as he studied her puzzle expression. He swore he saw her slipping away from him again. After the small progress they just made.

"What?" he snapped.

Stepping back Hermione lifted her chin defensively, ignoring his tone.

"You're making me nervous Harry"

A feeling of déjà vu passed over him, feeding his anger.

"You'll get over it," he promised her, and then added, "You did the first time."

To his satisfaction, he saw her eyes widen. _Something else you can't remember,_ he thought.

They'd had this conservation once before, when she'd admitted that she did have feelings for him and that it worried her because they had such a strong friendship. She went on to tell him that risking their friendship was like giving up pieces of herself. He'd answered by saying he didn't want pieces of her, he wanted all of her.

Just as he gave all of himself to her, she decided to give it a go and what a go they made of it. Everything was perfect. Just like they dreamed it would be. Now it seemed he was the only one with those dreams now.

Hermione dreaded this silence hanging between them. Due to last night's fun, she really didn't feel up to having another row with him.

Harry looked up and sighed.

"You might want to take another sobering potion to work with you just in case" he told her.

"I'm fine really," she replied not even looking at him.

"Six," he repeated.

She nodded, still refusing to meet his eyes. "Six."

"I'll be home by five," he told her as he walked out the door.

Once she heard the door shut, Hermione knew it was safe to look up. When she finally did, the tears that were hidden before fell freely from her eyes.

"So then he went on about my behavior, as if I was his child." Ginny huffed.

Luna sipped her water as she listened to Ginny complain about Draco.

"I can only imagine what my git of a brother had to say to you." She huffed at Luna.

Placing her glass down Luna shrugged. "Ronald was upset, but he was so sweet."

"Sweet, Ron?" Ginny chuckled. "Yeah right, don't go easy on him Luna. I might be his sister but they acted like babies last night."

"Honestly I was pretty much on cloud ten, so I don't remember much but going to bed, though we talked this morning." Luna told her.

Hermione snickered, "You were pretty drunk, Lu"

Laughing Luna leaned back in her chair, her radish earrings falling with her plaits.

"How did things go between you and Harry?" she asked, turning the conversation toward her.

Sighing Hermione leaned back. The events of last night seemed to dance around her mind, stopping on that blasted kiss that unnerved her.

"Well…I actually kissed him" she said weakly

Neither spoke for a second, while they registered what she told them. Ginny made the first step when her face broke out in a grin.

"Oh, Mione. Does this means you got you're memories back?" she asked.

When Hermione didn't answer, the smile dropped. Once again she felt the dreaded feel of disappointment again. She wanted so badly to remember. For everything just to go back to normal.

"No, I haven't. It was the Firewhiskey" Hermione decided to continue with what she knew was a lie.

"It's the crumpled – horned snorkacks. They interfere with the mind during September and October." Luna explained.

"Luna," Ginny began

"Yes,"

"I'm not even going to try and understand what you just said." She told her.

"Later when we have more time I will explain it to you. Don't worry you're brother didn't know much about it either." She beamed.

Hermione just shook her head and laughed. Luna was an odd girl, but she wouldn't have her any other way.

"Here comes lunch girls" Hermione said spotting the waitress.

"Good I'm starved." Luna smiled, tucking her wand behind her ear.

Ginny was not very happy at the moment. Life just didn't seem fair.

"So let me get this straight." She huffed looking at them both.

"You got bed and a talk this morning? And you got a kiss?" she followed.

"My husband treated me like a freaking child. Even had the guts to ask me if I flirted with the guys." She pouted.

"Gin," Hermione said.

"Things were a little crazy last night. I can only imagine what was going through their minds when they found us."

"Well, I don't care Hermione" she huffed once again.

"We weren't doing anything wrong. And his little display of child-like behavior just shows that he obviously doesn't trust me."

Luna frowned, "Draco trust you with his life, you know that"

Ginny nodded, "Yes, with his life but not around other men." She pointed out.

"If he can't trust me, then we have a problem Luna. He acted ridiculous and until he apologizes he will continue to sleep on the sofa."

Hermione laughed, she couldn't picture Draco sleeping on the couch without a fight.

"And Draco is okay with sleeping on the couch" she asked.

"Of course not," Ginny shrugged.

"But I'll be damned if I'm sleeping in the same bed with someone who does not trust me."

"Until he realizes what he did and says he's sorry, the couch will continue to be his bed." She added for measure.

"Oh, Gin. You two just need to talk this out then everything will be okay." Luna told her smiling.

"I agree with Luna." Hermione added.

"Talk?" Ginny scowled.

"We tried that this morning and all it accomplished was me screaming some more and him leaving for work calling me a bitch." She said

"Sorry Hermione but not all of us or perfect like you and Harry." She sighed looking down at her plate.

Hermione shifted in her chair trying not to show how uncomfortable she was at the moment.

"Umm…right now I would hardly call Harry and I perfect." She told her.

Ginny sighed.

"I know Hermione, but you guys will get through this. The love you two share is too strong just to give up."

Hermione didn't offer a comment to her, and turned to her food instead.

"The same goes for you and Draco too" Luna offered.

Ginny stifled a laugh, "Hardly the case at the moment Luna I assure you. Matter of fact the next time I see that git it would be too soon."

Laughing Luna nodded, "Well get ready for too soon, cause here he comes."

At that both Ginny and Hermione turned around to see Ron talking the hostess. Draco and Harry stood right behind him.

Both turned to Luna for an explanation.

"Don't worry they aren't staying. I asked Ronald to pick up my paycheck to put in the vault. He has a longer lunch."

Harry spotted Hermione once he followed Ron and Draco to the back. She looked terrified to say the least and his heart sunk.

He knew it was due to his presence and it irritated him. Before she would give him a mega-watt smile, loving the times they were able to catch a glimpse or a word throughout the day. How he wished today was another one.

But today she didn't know him. Most likely tomorrow would bring the same results. His only hope rode on their dinner tonight. It had too, or he would be forced to find another way.

Once they reached the table Ron gave Luna a kiss and they began talking about deposits and such. Harry stood there watching her eat her meal wondering if he should say something.

Once she looked up he decided he should.

"Hermione," he said nodding. That should do it.

"Harry" she nodded back giving him a small smile which he assumed was a forced one. What he would give for her mega- watt one now.

Draco tried his best not to look at Ginny. After the way she yelled at him like a banshee this morning, he really didn't want a repeat this afternoon.

He knew she was looking at him from the corner of her eye. He could see her mouth fighting to stay shut and he smirked. Damn woman had a problem with opening her mouth a lot.

Oh but the things she did with that mouth would drive a man insane he thought as he watched her chew on her bottom lip.

That same mouth that brought him great pleasure just two nights ago. He groaned at the thought. Two long days since he last touched his wife. It would most certainly be longer now that he was banned from his own bedroom.

His anger at that quickly dissolved any ideas he had about sex with Ginny. She acted in a disapproving manner last night. He had every right to be upset.

And he was damned if he was going to apologize for being worried about his wife.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Ron laughing and telling Luna goodbye.

"I'll see you later tonight sweetie. Owl me later so I know what you want for dinner." Luna told him.

Harry who was still staring at Hermione smiled. "Yeah, I'll see ya around five."

"Five" Hermione repeated though she didn't look so sure about the idea.

The men began to walk away, Ginny smiling at Ron and Harry as they pasted. Draco came up behind Harry and the smile dropped.

"Malfoy" she said coolly and nodded. No reason to be completely uncivilized.

"Malfoy" he returned in her exact manner.

Ron stopped and turned around laughing.

"Harry, pinch me," he chuckled.

"I must be dreaming because Malfoy just shunned his own name."

"People do **not** shun the Malfoy name" Ginny and Draco said in unison.

Both turned to stare at each other as the rest of the gang laughed. Draco swore he saw Ginny's face soften and even try to smile.

Following Ron and Harry out the restaurant he began thinking. Maybe he did overreact last night? Tonight he would try to apologize. There is a first time for everything.

Harry wasn't home by five. Or five-fifteen, or five-thirty. At five –thirty one, Harry burst in through the front door, moving at the speed of a true seeker. He knew Hermione hated being late for anything. Tonight would be no exception.

And when he saw Hermione at the foot of the stairs he stopped dead in his tracks.

She was wearing a floor-length, hunter green gown made of what looked like shiny spider's web. The all but translucent material clung to her body like a second skin. His palms suddenly itched.

"I think I'm jealous of a piece of cloth."

The look in his eyes as they roamed over her body washed away the impatient anger that had been building steadily with the passing of each minute. She tried her best to get some of it back, but found it useless.

"Where were you?" she demanded. "I was about to leave without you."

"The ball. The restaurant dinner. His mind came back online. He made for the staircase.

"Three minutes," he tossed over his shoulder, stripping off his practice shirt as he ran up the stairs two at a time.

"All I need is three minutes."

Gathering up the hem of her gown, Hermione followed him up the stairs.

"I should have left ten minutes ago." She yelled.

She heard him opening up the wardrobe in her bedroom. _Their_ bedroom, she admitted silently.

His clothes were flying from the wardrobe to the bed as he continued to get undressed.

"Where is this ball at anyway?" he asked.

She walked in just in time to see him kicking off his shoes and then pulling down his pants. He seemed to favor silk boxers, which looked dare she say sexy.

Very sexy. Damn.

"Hermione?" he asked looking up in her direction when she made no reply to his question.

Hermione realized something right then. She found out that it was hard to answer when your tongue was suddenly sealed to the roof of your mouth because all traces of moisture had dried up.

Harry's everyday clothes hadn't exactly been baggy, and his jeans had a nice way of clinging to his slim hips, but she had no idea he had a body that would make any woman under the age of ninety weep for joy.

Harry's body was hard, muscular and taut, with a small waist and a butt she had a feeling she could bounce quarters off of. It made her want to get her wallet out.

"Ministry," she managed to say, dragging her eyes away. Unfortunately they dragged right to the mirror on the wardrobe door, which reflected Harry's body right back at her.

It took a great deal of effort for her to form words. "It's at the ministry ball room."

"You're the guest speaker, right?" he asked dragging on his best pair of pants.

He was aware that she was watching his every move, watching as his pants slipped over his thighs and hips before he buttoned then zipped them up.

The look in her eyes pleased him and again he told himself they were making progress. Something was going to make her come around to him.

He just hoped he could hold out until it happened, because as things stood, angry or not, happy or not, all he wanted to do was take Hermione and make love to her.

The hardest thing to do was to miss someone who was standing right in front of you.

It took a great deal of effort for Hermione to pull her thoughts together.

"What?"

She blinked, focusing. The sentence he'd just asked played back in her head. Something about a guest speaker. Her. She was the guest speaker.

"Oh, right. Right," she repeated with feeling

Reaching up Harry grabbed hold of the green-long sleeved shirt. Interpreting the look on he face correctly, he suppressed a grin. Barely.

_Soon_, he promised himself.

"Well, they won't start without you, will they?"

She watched as his fingers worked their way down the front of his shirt, closing buttons as they went

"No."

They word came out as a sigh, then suddenly aware of the way it sounded, Hermione cleared her throat and repeated it a little more forcefully.

"No"

Mercifully he was covered again, she thought. Now all she had to do was block the imagine of an almost naked Harry out of he brain.

"Ready," he smiled. He nodded toward the door. "Go on, go."

"I'm assuming that we will apperate," Harry said as they made it downstairs.

He was putting on his cloak when she turned to look at him. She wanted to be angry, to get so deep in a argument that her mind would wind up creating a kind of fury force field around her head.

With effort she did her best to pick a fight.

"If you were going to be late, why didn't you owl?" she demanded.

Leaning in front of her he sighed.

"I didn't know I was going to be late until I was still in the air at five twenty seven." He said.

Today's practiced had been hell. With the biggest game in the season coming up the coach had them all pushed to the extreme.

She gave him a puzzled look, not understanding his reason.

"If you knew we had to leave Harry, you could have gotten off your broom."

"Coach had us in the air Hermione; I didn't take notice of the time. Once I did I came home didn't I?"

"Sorry," he apologized. "I wasn't counting on going back up, when he called my name."

She dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand before turning back around.

"Doesn't matter now," she told him.

With a quick sudden jerk on his arm, she pulled him closer to her.

"If we hurry, we can still make it on time." She said.

In a flash they were gone.

And hurry they did Harry thought when he jerked with a force in the ball room. Hermione instantly let go of his arm and hurried toward Evan.

Making his way to the bar, Harry growled when he saw her hug Evan. Then if that wasn't bad enough the bloke got his mega-watt smile to boot.

Because he was trying to win her over, Harry didn't go after the guy the way he wanted too. Instead he did his best to hold his tongue. He tried not to feel ignored as she spent the evening weaving in and out of the crowds.

She watched her as she made stops, smiled and shared jokes with everyone but him. He really hoped the restaurant worked. Not having his wife was really affecting his game and state of mind.

He spotted her standing by the punch table and for once she was alone. He decided to make his way over to her.

"You know, I was thinking maybe we could have the next dance." He said coming up behind her.

She glanced around the room before she finally turned his way. Her eyes shifted to his as she let out a nervous smile.

"I didn't take you for someone who likes to dance."

"Maybe I don't but then again you wouldn't remember" he smiled trying to lighten the mood.

"Well, I'm afraid that I still have duties to make. So dancing is out of the question." She replied.

"Hermione, one dance is all I ask. You still have time before we leave to handle any duties you might have."

Hermione took one look at his pleading eyes and felt herself unable to say no.

Offering her hand she sighed. "Fine, one dance" she told him.

She couldn't help but smile as his eyes lit up. Taking her arm, Harry walked them to the center of the dance floor.

"Satisfied" she asked when he pulled her close.

"Getting there," he told her before she leaned her head on his chest.

Hermione couldn't help it as the image of Harry's half naked body came back in full. Try as she may, the feel of his body so close was more than she could take.

She began to feel flushed, and dare she say turned on.

"Damn," she whispered once she realized the feeling wasn't going away.

Instantly alert, he looked down at her.

"What's the matter?"

"I need to go to the loo" she whispered out fear of using her voice too loudly.

"Now?" he asked looking at her face.

"You can't wait?" he was still looking into her eyes.

Did he want her to scream? Admit she had to collect herself, that at that moment she wanted him so badly she could barely breathe.

"Now, Harry" she said.

He understood then, she wanted him. The look on her face was enough proof.

"Then go," he told her with a smile.

He watched her as she merged with the crowd and made her way toward the loo. She had stopped for a minute looking unsure which way to turn. She made a left, and then quickly turned right toward the women's.

Harry didn't say anything. He was too busy trying to suppress the grin that so badly wanted to spread out over his face.

Hermione didn't remember.

She didn't remember the restaurant when they finally managed to leave the ball. Didn't remember his proposal. Harry found it hard not to take it personally.

She remembered old movies, details about people she worked with, the ingredients in the one meal she could cook without filling the kitchen up in smoke.

But she didn't remember him. Why?

The question echoed in Harry's mind as the popped into the sitting room, just as it had since this whole damn thing happened.

Harry all but stormed into the kitchen once he got home. He was having a hard time controlling his disappointment. It had cloaked itself in anger, which he was trying very hard not to take out on her.

"I'm sorry Harry," Hermione said quietly as she followed him into the kitchen.

She was different now compared to earlier this evening. At the ball, she was happy, talking to everyone who came up to her. She worked the room like a pro, securing a lot of support for the house elves.

At the restaurant, she'd been a little less talkative but she still held great company. And now as they returned home without an audience, she suddenly turned quiet on him.

It was as if someone had turned the volume down both on her voice and her personality. She almost looked vulnerable, he thought. Almost but not quite.

"Sorry about what?" he asked, heading back to the sitting room.

"Sorry that I didn't remember," she told him coming into the room and dropping her purse.

Harry paused for a moment, the strange note in her voice catching his attention. There was a look of sadness in her eyes, of regret. The lingering look of doubt that was present since he brought her home from St. Mungo's was gone.

He felt his way around carefully, knowing better than to take too much for granted when it came to Hermione

"Then you've stopped doubting that I'm your husband." He asked.

"Yes." She lifted her shoulders in a half shrug which was not nearly as careless as she pretended it was.

"Actually, I started believing you a couple of days ago."

The only sound was the howl of the wind outside. Maybe he was opening up a can of worms, but he had to ask.

"Why?"

Though she thrived on logic, always had, there where times when she gave way to emotion.

"Because nobody would go through this much trouble, stage photos, get my friends in on it, that kind of thing," she elaborated.

"It has to be true."

A smile played on her lips for moment before she added.

"Even I'm not worth that much trouble."

Harry laughed and shook his head. He was doing his best to keep this sense of hopelessness at bay.

"Nice to know the accident didn't affect your ego either."

She wasn't sure how he meant that, but she stopped short at any reference to having an ego. Nothing could be further from the truth. If anything, the person she was inside was insecure, not egotistical.

"That was meant as a joke," she told him.

Harry sighed. He unfastened his cloak and dropped it onto the sofa without a conscious thought as to what he was doing.

"Yeah, I know." He said pulling out his shirt from his pants, he began to unbutton it.

"Sorry, maybe I'm being a little testy."

"No more than usual"

Hermione picked up the cloak and brushed it off, something he noted that she always did whenever they returned from a function. She was doing it unconsciously. Naturally. Maybe some small part of her mind was staging a comeback.

He tried not to get excited about what would have been, under normal circumstances, a very normal act.

She saw him looking at her oddly. Had something fallen out of his pocket? She looked around and saw no reason for his expression.

"What?" she cried.

"You're picking up my cloak."

Hermione looked down at the cloak in her arms.

"Well you left it on top of the sofa. Do you have any idea how dirty it can get with all the things in here. Why are you looking at me like that?"

Harry allowed himself to smile. Inside he filled with hope.

"Because that is something a wife would do."

She had no idea why on hand she felt so attracted to this man and on the other; she had this desire to contradict everything he said. Was that what her marriage had been like?

"Or someone who was trying to establish some kind of order in this land of chaos," she countered.

Hermione threw the cloak at him. "Here I'll even let you hang it up."

He caught the cloak with one hand. "You can still nag I see."

Hermione gasped as she raised her eyes to him all set to go a round or two.

"I do not nag. I make tasteful suggestions."

Harry rolled his eyes, and then headed up the stairs.

"Over and over again."

Grabbing her dress up, she hurried after him.

"There's nothing wrong with reinforcement Harry," she informed him.

Harry's laughed was forced.

"Is that what you call it, now?"

Under Hermione's watchful eye, he took the cloak and tossed it on the chair. He removed his shoes, then his shirt. He left them all on the chair.

Hermione couldn't take her eyes off him. Something stirred in the back of mind, but as she tried urging it out, it wouldn't budge.

There was no denying that she was experiencing a very real sense of déjà vu. She'd stood like this before, in some room. Perhaps even this one, watching him do exactly what he was doing.

The picture just refused to become clear no matter how much she willed it to.

When Harry's long, tanned fingers went to undo the button at the top of his pants; Hermione realized that she had caught her breath.

"What are you doing?"

"Avoiding another 'tactful' suggestion, he told her mildly.

"If I take my pants off downstairs, you'll only complain about where I leave them."

He eased the pants down from his hips, and then flung them to the chair.

"Besides my pajama bottoms are here." He shrugged.

Hermione felt a wave of warmth coming over her. Intense warmth. And there seemed to be a sudden shortage of air, not just in her lungs but the whole room.

She knew she should turn away. Standing here like this, staring at him, was giving Harry the satisfaction of getting the reaction she knew he was after.

But it was impossible to look away from a body like Harry's.

Hermione's mind might not remember this man but her body sure did. Her tongue was resting in a dry mouth.

"You sleep in pajama bottom's?" she heard herself asking.

"Sometimes," he told her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Sometimes I sleep in nothing at all."

Suddenly everything got hotter. Hermione could have sworn she was in the oven.

She could feel her heart hammering in her throat. And her chest. How was that possible?

And why wasn't he putting something on for Merlin's sake?

Her knees were getting weak. "And which time is this? Her voice was hardly above a whisper.

Harry stood so close to her there wasn't even enough room to wedge in a prayer. Not one for strength.

"That's up to you," he told her.

She wanted some kind of outside power to come in and intervene. To take it out of her hands. She didn't want it to be up to her.

Because she wasn't strong enough to turn away.

His words seemed to shimmer before her, almost tangible enough to reach out and grasp. The next moment she was aware that she was grasping his shoulders. Standing in the high heels she still had yet to take off.

The distance between point A and point B was not as great as it might have been. Point A were her lips, point B were his.

She didn't know who it was who cut the remaining distance between them. It might have been Harry, but she was fairly certain that she made the first move. That she was the one who brought her lips up to his.

The next thing she knew, she was being pulled in his arms. He was pressing her to him. Pressing his mouth against hers. And even though she couldn't remember a physical relationship between them beyond the time Harry kissed her, something inside her cried for joy.

Hermione surrendered to the inevitable not with resignation but a sense of elation that almost frightened her for its intensity. As far as she was concerned, she really still did not know him.

It didn't seem to matter. Her soul somehow knew him and that was enough.

Hermione lost herself inside the kiss.

Then, suddenly he was drawing back, away from her. "Hermione?"

It took her a moment to contain herself. Her insides were spinning, along with the room. She looked at his face, his expression, and knew what he was asking.

Whether she'd suddenly remembered.

Ever so slightly, she moved her head from side to side. She didn't remember. And right now she desperately wanted to.

"Make me remember, Harry." She cried.

Harry didn't need anything more. Sweeping her back into his arms, he kissed her over and over again.

Melting her, melting himself.

Well there you have chapter 7. Chapter 8 will be out shortly, and please remember to review good or bad…


	8. A step toward remembering

**You guys are just way to nice me. I can't tell you how happy I was when my email became flooded with reviews. Heck I wasn't even sure anyone was reading this anymore but I'm glad you all are.**

**Chapter 8 – A step toward remembering**

It was all Harry could do not to rip her gown off her body. But although in the past their lovemaking had at times gone way beyond the point of intensity, he knew that as far as she was concerned, this was the first time.

This meant that no matter what he wanted, he needed to go slowly. For her sake. For their sake.

So, though it cost him, Harry held himself in check, moving ahead by small doses. Making love to her with his mouth, with his hands, with every breath that left his body.

He slowly inched her gown down, placing soft kisses across her neck as his fingers traced the soft curve of her back.

He saw desire shine in her eyes.

His hands ran down the length of her body as the gown slipped, pooling at her feet. Harry did nothing to suppress the moan that came from his throat as he stopped to stare at her in the moonlight.

There she was surrounded in soft light in nothing but a creamy white thong, and high heels with stockings that clung to the tops of her thighs.

It was as if god himself granted him his fondest dream.

With his heart in his throat, Harry sunk to his knees in front of her.

"You're breathtaking" he whispered in awe.

He felt her run her fingers through his hair as he clung to her, placing light kisses across her flat abdomen causing her to gasps.

Very slowly, he rolled first one stocking down her leg, then the other. Her hands came down on his shoulders as she stepped out of each one at a time, leaving her shoes behind as well.

And then, rather than rise to his feet again, Harry brought his mouth down lightly tasting the areas that had for so long been his.

The heat of his breath found her, making her crazy.

Hermione pressed her lips together to keep from screaming out. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she felt his assault on her resistance growing more intense. Felt the heat racing through her body and ending at her core.

He was doing things to her, things that all but made her leave her body behind and spiral head first into utopia. She felt weak, ready to pool at his feet.

Hermione cried out his name as the first climax hit. His tongue going slowly to intensify the pleasure. She was half aware of tugging on Harry's shoulder, trying to get him to stand up.

She wanted this to be a mutual experience, wanted to wrap her body around his. To feel every part of him against her and to have him feel her against him.

When he rose to his feet again, she saw herself reflected in his emerald eyes. Felt her pulse quicken throughout her body. Felt something she would have sworn was love, if only she was capable of it.

She blocked all thoughts from her mind.

And then, suddenly, they were together on the bed, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, his body hot against hers. Their mouths sealed to each other's as wild sensations echoed and throbbed through her very soul.

He possessed every inch of her.

By touch, by taste, all of her belonged to him at that very moment. And she had never wanted anything so much in her life. Never felt anything like this before.

And yet if Harry was really her husband, she'd had to have felt this before. Why? Why couldn't she remember?

But as she felt him shift his body over hers all questions vanished into oblivion. Felt his hands join with hers as he drew them up over her head.

Felt the weight of his body as he began to move forward, into her.

Hermione raised her hips in response, desperate to feel the pleasure she knew was coming. He didn't disappoint her. Harry thrusted inside her and she felt her self drowning in a sea of openmouthed kisses.

She felt the need to claim him for herself.

"You're my life," he whispered in her ear.

His breath tickling her senses as he smoothed back her hair.

Her pulse raced, beating along with her heart as the speed of their lovemaking increased, as she rushed to join him in bringing him as much pleasure as he was her.

When the final burst consumed her, she cried out, lost in a kind of mindless ecstasy that, until this moment, she had no idea she was capable of.

She wasn't alone in her reaction, she sensed, given the way Harry had pushed himself farther into her. Slowly, ever so slowly, the intensity lessened, allowing them both to float back to earth, wrapped in a blanket of euphoria.

For one brief moment, she wanted this to be her last moment on earth. She wanted to be able to savor this moment and just withdraw from everything forever.

Because this was perfect.

But it wasn't her last moment. And the world was there waiting for her when she finally opened her eyes again. And was he.

Hermione knew that he was going to ask. A part of her was almost willing to lie, to give him the answer she knew he was waiting for.

But she couldn't lie. It wasn't her way. _Oh, no ?_

Hermione stiffened. What the hell was that supposed to mean? She felt as if she was going crazy. Why, why couldn't she remember a man who could make her body respond this way?

Pivoting on his elbows, Harry looked at his wife. He saw his answer on her face. He was fairly certain that if she remembered everything, there would be a look of elation, of triumph that she met yet another challenge and had emerged victorious.

Yes, there would have been a look there other than the one he saw now.

With a sigh, he moved off her. Lying beside her, he gathered Hermione onto his arms they way he always did after they made love. He did it then because neither wanted the moment to end. He did it now because she was vulnerable.

As was he.

"You might not remember me," he told her, "but your body certainly does."

Hermione was sure any other man would have thought making the earth move for her would have jumped started her memory. Yet Harry assumed nothing had changed.

She turned her face toward him. The closeness of his body made her feel safe even as she continued to be lost.

"How did you know?" she asked.

"Saw the look on your face," he told her.

"There was no sudden spark in your eyes, nothing that said your brain was back to normal and remembered me. You enjoyed yourself, but you enjoyed yourself with a stranger, not with the man you've been married to for the last three years."

He was hurting, she thought, and she ached for him. But she ached for herself, as well. Because she was the one in prison and she had no way of knowing how long this jail sentence would continue.

Releasing her, Harry sat up on the bed with his back to her.

She held her breath. Was he going to get up and go to bed downstairs? She didn't want him to leave her. To leave her here in this large four poster bed with nothing but half shadows to keep her company. To taunt her.

He stood up, naked and as perfect as anything she'd ever seen. She could feel her body getting hot again, could feel the longing taking hold of her. Longing for him.

"Maybe it requires more than just once," she said quietly.

He turned around to look at her.

"Unless you're one of those men who just likes to do it once."

But even as she said it, she had evidence before her that Harry definitely did _not_ fall into that category.

He sat down on the bed again, facing her.

"I'm one of those men who believe that something takes as long as it takes."

Hermione didn't bother trying to keep the smile from the lips.

"Which means twice?" she said.

He laid down beside her, taking her into his arms.

"Which means as many times as you want to do it" he replied.

Then, before she could ask him another question, Harry was kissing her again. Kissing her as his hands began to roam over her body again, stroking her and burning away the desire to waste her breath on words when there were so many more worthwhile things to occupy her.

The sunlight moved its way across the room. Hermione stirred, shutting her eyes to keep the light away. As her brain shook off the last bits of sleep, last nights events came flooding back.

Her eyes flew open as the full impact of what happened, what she'd done, sank in.

She'd surrendered last night. Surrendered.

The word echoed in her brain, growing larger as she brought her surroundings into focus.

Surrendering meant allowing the man stirring beside her to have control over her. No, damn it, it wasn't going to go that way. She'd worked to hard to maintain her independence just to throw it all away because some man was incredible in bed.

She still had no idea what their relationship had been like before, she only had now to work with. And whatever happened now was going to undoubtedly dictate at least a portion of her future.

She was the master of her fate, not him.

Harry stretched beside her as his eyes opened. He smiled as the last night played through his mind.

"Morning, beautiful." He said.

Hermione tugged the sheet around her, wishing she'd woken up earlier and been able to leave the scene of the crime.

Or at the very least put on her clothes before he'd opened his eyes.

"Morning," she replied crisply, her shoulders as stiff as her expression.

He knew that expression. She might not be able to remember their life together, but he was experiencing a very definite wave of déjà vu.

Yep, Hermione had worn that same expression on her face the morning after the first time they'd made love together.

Disappointment filled him. He'd really hoped it would be different this time around. Apparently you could take memories of the husband out of the girl, but the fighting core always remained.

Sitting up beside her, Harry did his best to pretend that things were finally back on track between them. That this was just another average morning in their lives, no different from any of the others they'd experienced.

It wasn't easy.

"It's still early," he commented, glancing at the clock by the door. "Want me to make breakfast?"

Hermione had to admit at that moment she felt very exposed, and was desperately searching for a way not to. The best defense was a good defense. She gave him a cold look.

"Are you implying I can not cook?"

That hadn't been his message at all, but her question had a smile curving his mouth, even though the air was thick with tension.

"That really doesn't need saying Hermione. It's more like a world opinion."

He saw her eyes narrow to the point they resembled slits.

"What?" he laughed.

"Even you have admitted yourself you can't cook" he added still laughing.

When she had been a little girl, reading was her hobby. Then came the Hogwarts letter. She never had time to learn how to cook, when Hogwarts a History had to be read. Besides frankly she didn't have any inclination to do so either.

Her parents teased her about it. But he couldn't.

Because she needed something to focus on, other than how much she had given to him last night, she let her anger out.

"How hard is it to make eggs and toast?" she spat.

His grin widened.

"For the average person or for you?" he asked.

Careful to keep the sheet around her, Hermione sat up as much as she able.

"And just how many breakfasts have you sampled over the years?"

Harry wasn't really sure if she was using breakfast as some kind of metaphor, but he was taking no chances.

"Enough to know I didn't marry you for your cooking."

Unable to help himself, he added.

"Just like I didn't marry you for your even temper."

Her eyes narrowed again.

"And just what did you marry me for?" she asked.

Sighing he ran his hands through his already unruly hair. He had woken up in a good mood today. Last night he'd held on to the hope that maybe things were starting to work themselves out for the better. He was Harry Potter, he should have known better.

"Right about now I tend to forget." He replied.

He sighed again, this time determined to keep his temper in check

"Look, I just wanted to do something nice for you." He told her.

Hermione had her mind set, and chose to strike on that one word.

"I don't need you to do anything for me." She huffed.

Harry started to comment, but closed his mouth instead. He was letting himself get dragged into an argument with her and it was the last thing either of them needed.

He didn't need to. He had taken this trip with Hermione before.

"Maybe not, but I know what you're doing Hermione."

Hermione struggle to keep the sheet on her as she looked at him.

"I'm not doing anything."

"Oh yes, you are," he countered. "You're scared so you're trying to push me away."

"Scared?" she cried angrily.

"Yes," he repeated quietly, firmly. "Scared."

Her eyes blazed as she glared at him. It took everything he had not to just pull her back into his arms and make love to her. Granted she was exasperating beyond words, but she was also magnificent like this.

"What am I suppose to be scared of?" she asked. "You?"

"Partly," he said, but he knew her well enough to know that he just the catalyst here.

"Mostly you're scared of you."

She laughed shortly letting him know she found his answer to be absurd.

"I didn't notice any degree in psychiatry hanging off your broom."

Harry didn't go for it. He knew she was baiting him. Hermione could send him over the edge sometimes, but he needed to be the sane one here.

One of them had to be, their marriage was at stake.

"Living with you has given me a honorary degree." He said.

With effort he tried to reason with her.

"Look Mione, I'm not your father." He began.

"I know who my father is Harry,"

"Likewise, but I'm trying to explain to you that I don't want you obeying my every command." He told her.

"I don't want to mold you or make you an extension of myself in any matter, shape or form. It wouldn't be pretty."

"I just want you to be my wife." He whispered.

"Someone like a little woman?" she sneered trying to get him angry, because she felt if she was losing.

Losing to the look in those emerald eyes, to the patience in his voice. She didn't want to lose. Losing wasn't acceptable to her.

He simply shook his head.

"Nobody in their right mind would ever think of you in that way."

Hermione glanced down, finding the insult in the words. Her body was outlined by the sheet,

"Are you saying?"

"I'm saying that the way you said it was diminishing, and I've never thought of you as anything other than your own woman."

His eyes held hers as he added. "And frankly that is enough for me."

Hermione forced her way through the fear and insecurities and just looked at him for a few minutes.

"That's what you think of me?"

"Yes."

And then, because he knew she needed honesty, he added,

"I've also thought of you as one hell of a royal pain in the butt, and a know it all, and right now, lady you are going for an all time record."

Shocked, she reacted without thinking, her hand going back to swing. Harry caught her by the wrist, raising her hand above her head before she could make contact.

The sheet she was keeping in place with her arms slipped and he became too aware of the fact that his wife now stood completely naked against him.

Any part of him that was sleeping before was surly wide awake now.

Hermione turned him on more now than she had when they first came together as a couple. His eyes held hers; looking for the woman he loved more than life itself.

"I don't want to fight, Mione." He sighed.

She had a look of triumph when he looked at him.

"Afraid you will lose, potter?" she asked.

"Nope, afraid I'll strangle you" he said deadpanned.

He released her hand.

"Damn it, Hermione, nobody has ever affected me the way you do Not even Voldemort."

Who is Voldemort?" she asked clearly confused.

"Doesn't matter." He cried out startling her.

He looked at her.

"Sometimes you make me want to wrap my hands around that pretty little neck of yours and squeeze until all the annoying things you say are gone."

That wasn't all, she thought. She could almost feel Harry's unspoken words coming to her mind.

"And?"

He took a deep breath. He was always one who liked to keep his own counsel, keep his thoughts to himself. Hell he did at first with the prophecy. Sure Hermione and Ron were his best friends and they helped him through a lot.

He even begin to open up somewhat. But since he fell in love with Hermione the idea of it just seemed to lonely.

"And I want to make love to you until one of us dies."

She had no idea why a smile formed at the edge of her mouth.

"So death is pretty much the bottom line for us then?" she asked

"It usually is. As in till death do us part." He said.

And he'd never meant anything he'd ever said more in his whole life. He never thought he would have a chance at life after facing Voldemort.

But he won and he did. He wanted to face it forever with her. Not alone.

Raising the sheet back around her again, Hermione blew out a breath. Some of the fight she had was gone. She paused for a moment, then asked.

"Where did we get married?"

The question came out of nowhere. Maybe it was a good sign.

"At the Burrow." He answered.

She stared at him. Sunshine, laughter and the Weasley's flashed through her mind. Something formless tried to pull itself together in her mind, but then it faded as she tried to cling to it. The frustration was driving her mad.

"Why the Burrow?"

He smiled.

"That was Ron's idea. He and Luna thought it was the best way to avoid the press and give Mr. Weasley a chance to use his camera to capture the occasion."

"The wedding album," she remembered.

"Right. Your mum and dad, were there, along with Neville and Susan, Seamus and Lavender." He told her.

"You dad informed Mrs. Weasley that he was certain I was marrying you for free teeth cleanings."

"Knowing my father, he most likely made jokes all day," she smiled.

He was treating this with good humor. Maybe she overreacted, Hermione thought, then immediately groaned inwardly.

Of course she'd overreacted. Every time she gave a little bit of herself, she was afraid of never getting it back.

She wondered how in the hell Harry managed to stay around just for her.

Hermione nibbled on her bottom lip, and then threw out an apology.

"I'm sorry about before."

"I was expecting it."

Harry saw her expression and nodded. She didn't remember.

"You did it before." he shrugged.

And then, because only one of them remembered, he explained, "The first time we made love. You went from a cool breeze to a category five hurricane in about as much time as it took to say it."

"And you rode it out."

Harry shrugged again. "Had to."

Hermione searched his face, trying to understand why he stayed. The man was good looking and incredible in bed. He could easily have had anyone he wanted, on his own terms. Why did he stick it out with her?

"Why?"

Didn't she know? On some kind of level, didn't she know how much he loved her? How he would always love her?

"Why do you think Mione?" he smiled.

Now it was her turn to shrug.

"You have a death wish."

Harry laughed then, and the sound of his laughter filled her with such peace, she leaned toward him.

"Oh Mione, my wishes don't involve death in any form." He told her as he bravely reached out, running his hands through her hair.

"But they do involve you, us, this marriage. You're the best girl in London. In any town really."

Was that it? Was she just a challenge, or was it more than that?

She looked up to see him.

"I don't think I understand." She replied.

"Hermione Potter, doesn't understand something. I'm shocked." He teased.

He smiled into her eyes. As beautiful as she was, it was her eyes he loved the best about her. He could easily get lost in those eyes.

"You don't have to. At times, neither do I." he began.

"But so far what we have between us works." He sighed, remembering.

"Or was working before you froze in front of that Bludger."

Hermione shook her head, not remembering the accident.

"Do you like the others are disappointed in me? You know for not remembering you yet." She sighed.

"I can't stand the thought of them thinking me weak Harry."

He knew that, but it still didn't make any sense to him.

"Hermione, they are your friends, of course they don't think you're weak. If anything they see you as the same bossy, brave girl they knew from Hogwarts."

Why do you always think you have to prove yourself to us? You know better than that." He sighed.

Hermione smiled, more at the words than at him.

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you claim." She replied.

"Let me revise that then, you don't have anything you need to prove. You're the brightest witch of our year, a successful employee at the Ministry. You're young, beautiful and you have a sexy husband." He smirked.

"The Daily Prophet even approves of you. Of us as a matter of fact." He added.

He found that unbelievable, given the vulture like tendencies of them in the past.

"Everything is perfect." He said.

Pressing her lips together Hermione sighed.

"Except that I don't remember you."

Harry nodded, "Except that you don't remember me."

His eyes searched Hermione's face, hoping. "Not even a little?" he asked.

"There are moments," she admitted.

Moments that raised her hopes, only to dash them in the next heartbeat.

"Tiny bits and pieces come to my mind, but they leave as quickly as they arrive. So, on the whole, no." she told him honestly.

He should be used to the disappointment by now, he thought. But he wasn't so he shrugged at her words, doing his best to appear logical.

He wasn't much good at pretending, but he tried for her sake. Because despite her earlier freak out session, he felt she was coming around. Not remembering him, but accepting him as part of her life. And most importantly not refusing it all together.

"It's still early. Seamus said it might take time."

"He also said it may never return." She reminded him.

She tried not to let that last thought depress her. But the idea of the life she shared with Harry being locked away from her forever saddened her greatly.

He simply shrugged trying to make light of the situation.

"That is called covering all the bases. Medi witches and wizards all do that. But Seamus saw no reason for us to remain hopeful that this is simply a temporary problem."

"Most of the time amnesia is temporary." He added.

"But most of the time," she countered, "the amnesia is all inclusive."

Harry wasn't going to go there, wasn't going to allow himself to dwell on dark thoughts. He could do that about a lot of things, but not when it came to her.

Harry took hold of her shoulders, making her look at him.

"Every case is different, Hermione. And you are going to remember me."

His eyes held hers. He wouldn't lie to her, she thought.

"You're sure?" she whispered.

"I'm sure" he confirmed.

She wanted to ask him how he knew; how he could be so certain about something which she had such negative doubts. But in her heart she had a feeling Harry wouldn't be able to answer her question in any manner that would assure her.

So she quietly clung to his words as if they were a promise. Because she needed to.

She smiled at him, feeling something other than just desire stir within her.

"You know, you can be very nice at times." She said.

This time Harry gave in to himself and slipped his arm around her. To his relief, she didn't pull away. He felt her bushy hair tickle his shoulder.

"I can be very nice all the time." He told her softly.

She looked up at him. "So why aren't you?"

He brushed his lips against hers so lightly she thought she imagined it.

"You would think me too boring." He said with a chuckle.

This time the stirring she felt was definitely desire.

"Does that offer for breakfast still stand?" she asked.

"Sure."

He brushed his lips against hers again, this time a bit harder and with more feeling. His arms closed around her.

"In a minute."

"A minute?" Her eyes laughed at him. "You want to do it that fast?"

He kissed her again. And again. And in between he murmured, "Okay, five minutes."

Hermione placed her arms around his neck, her body pressing against his.

"Make it twenty."

Harry was already drawing her back down on the bed.

"Whatever you want baby, whatever you want."

**Well the long awaited chapter 8 has finally arrived. Chapter 9 will be out soon. Hope everyone likes this chapter and please read and review responsibly.**

**Bra4goten **


	9. Hidden Secrets

21

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed. It means a lot to me that so many of you love my story. I have upped the rating as a few of you suggested. A couple of you have theories of why you think Hermione has forgotten Harry as well. We will just have to see. Enough chat chit, and on with the chapter.**

_**Of course as everyone knows I do not own Harry Potter, J.K does, so we will leave it at that.**_

**Chapter 9 – Hidden Secrets**

She wished she could say that everything was normal. At least halfway normal. But memories of Harry continued to elude her. They'd certainly come to some kind of understanding since the start of this journey and she was happy for the most part. Over the last three days she'd have little burst here and there, but nothing she could call a concrete memory.

Yes, things were beginning to look up. She and Harry had decided that her memories would come back in due time and they would focus on this. Hell she didn't even know what _this_ was. But what ever it turned out to be in the end. There was some progress.

Harry was out of town for a game. It had been two days since she last saw him. He had owled her this morning letting her know he would arrive tonight. Hermione was more than ready to see him. Finished with the last of the files, she was on her way out of the ministry, planning the evening that lay ahead. She wasn't sure just what that entailed, but ultimately she intended for them to wind up in bed together.

Hermione's plans were placed on hold when Neville called her into the office. One look at his face and she had the sinking feeling her plans were about to be changed.

"Great news Hermione. Charlie Weasley has requested you accompany him in the outskirts of London for the Dragon treatment meeting." He said smiling.

When he opened his mouth and told her the assignment, she knew it. Still she heard herself asking,

"You want me to go tonight?"

Neville nodded, joining his hands together and resting them on his desk.

"Yes, tonight. The meeting is going to began with the new policies and then an observation with the dragons. This will take into most of the evening, so the logical thing to do is stay." He replied.

It was obvious by his expression that he'd thought she would be pleased with an assignment like this. It was right up her alley, and now he was mystified himself.

"What's wrong? You love this kind of field work. It would certainly help your cause for fair treatment of creatures." He asked, looking with concern.

"It's just like the last trip a month ago," he reminder her.

"Outskirts of London and then back home again."

He looked particularly happy with himself as he added, "I've even booked the same room for you. Or Charlie has offered his house to you for the evening."

The same room.

Hermione looked at Neville blankly. Something else she didn't remember, she realized, and held her frustration at bay. She refused to acknowledge another memory lapse to Neville. So she merely nodded at Neville's words.

In an odd way, she felt the tiniest bit heartened. Apparently there was something besides Harry that she'd forgotten. She knew that at the very least, this might make Harry feel better.

Harry.

Damn it, Harry was coming home tonight, it wasn't fair. Why did it have to be tonight? First her evening with Harry would have to wait and now she was faced with something else she didn't remember. People were comprised of their memories, and she wanted hers back.

Hermione finally realized Neville was looking at her oddly.

"Something wrong?" he asked

Shaking her head, Hermione tried to smile.

"No, just trying to rearrange a few things in my head to accommodate the trip, that's all" she told him.

Neville shrugged, apparently accepting her answer.

"Well, don't spend too much time rearranging. The portkey activates at three-thirty. You meet Charlie at five."

She didn't bother pointing out that she never really accepted the job. Instead she nodded and resigned herself to postponing her night of passion until tomorrow. She had a meeting to cover.

"Okay" she replied.

The scent of daisies filled his nose as did the off-tune melody he was whistling filled his ears. The music stopped once he entered the house and was surrounded in darkness. That was all right, he just got home before her. She was probably working late at the ministry. He could wait.

When he walked into the sitting room, he saw the parchment on the desk. A feeling in his gut told him he was being too optimistic.

It figured. Here lately with Hermione, there was always one step back for every two steps forward.

Putting the bouquet of daisies down on the desk, he picked up the parchment. A second later his eyes scanned her neatly scrawled message.

_Harry,_

_I have to cover the dragon meeting tonight with Charlie. Since the meeting will run into the evening, _

_I shall remain in outer London till tomorrow. I'm so sorry for this. Be back tomorrow._

_Hermione_

_p.s Congratulations on the win_

He frowned at the note as he tossed it back on the desk.

"Not as sorry as I am," he said aloud.

Picking up the bouquet, he was tempted to toss them in the trash can. He told himself he was overreacting and needed to calm down. So instead he crossed to the cabinet and got out the vase she kept there. He poured a little water into the vase and stuffed in the flowers, not bothering to take off the plastic wrapped around it.

"The best- laid plans of mice and men," he muttered under his breath.

It looked as if he was going to be spending the night alone. He knew he could probably go hang out with Ron or Draco, but Ron was most likely busy with Luna, and he didn't much feel like being around people tonight. He'd been counting on spending time with Hermione, on wearing her down a little more.

With a sigh, he looked around the room. He supposed he could go to bed. He was tired and nothing was stopping him, but right now, he didn't feel up to that, either.

Turning around he noticed the stack of posts on the end table. At least three days' worth. Hermione always made sure posts were answered immediately, but due to the current situation it was a little backed up.

With nothing else to do, he decided to look through the mail, see if any bills needed paying before they became overdue. Sorting, he divided the mail into three piles. Her mail, his and the mail they received jointly, which usually amounted to catalogs and the daily prophet.

When he came across the hospital bill addressed to Hermione, he stopped and whistled softly. Talk about speed. He thought it took about a month or two to process a hospital bill. Obviously St. Mungo's wanted its gallons as fast as possible.

Since it was delivered yesterday, and he had nothing better to do, he figured he might as well get the process going. He would have the money transferred from their vault. He wondered how much the cost was as he opened the post

The stamp on the top of the bill proclaimed it to be for an out- patient services rendered a month ago in London General.

Having opted to stay at Charlie's instead of the hotel Neville set up, Hermione waited for Charlie to arrive at the drop off point. She sighed wondering if Harry had made it home yet. She had hoped he wouldn't be too upset with her for not being there to welcome him home. She mentally noted to floo him later before the meeting.

At least then she could see him somewhat before tomorrow. Spotting Charlie, she waved back and made her way toward the man. She smiled as he approached her.

"Well, if it isn't little Hermione." Charlie laughed as he grabbed her in a bone crushing hug.

A hug he learned from his mother no doubt Hermione thought.

Laughing she kissed his cheek.

"I'm not little anymore Charlie" she chuckled.

"Too right you are." He said then added, "But then again, you'll always be little Hermione Granger to me" he said laughing.

"Same bushy hair, always right" he began.

"Same long hair, same ridiculous earring" Hermione countered.

Rolling his eyes, Charlie threw his hands up in defeat.

"Okay, okay. I get your point. Just please stop, I heard enough from my mother on the subject the last time she came to visit." He clutched his chest dramatically causing Hermione to laugh.

"I agree with her" Hermione said deadpanned.

"I bet you do" Charlie snorted.

Hermione bit her lip to keep from laughing, but failed bursting into a fit of laughter. Charlie joined her shaking his head.

"Come on kiddo," he smiled putting his arm around her. "I got dinner going for us back at my place and you can settle in."

"Won't there be food at the meeting?" she asked.

Nodding, Charlie frowned.

"Not the best I assure you. I'm a Weasley; if I won't eat it you know it has to be bad." He explained.

"Awe, well then I most defiantly take your word for it. Mister food expert." She grinned.

An hour later Hermione groaned as she leaned her head back on the chair.

"I'm so full, I think I want to puke." She moaned.

Laughing, Charlie scooped up another helping of chicken.

"There's plenty here. Eat up" he told her.

Hermione looked at him horrified. Hardly able to believe he was on his fourth plate himself.

"I couldn't eat another bite if I wanted too. And you shouldn't either" she chuckled.

"I'm waiting for you to explode right before my eyes." She added deadpanned.

Charlie shook his head as he continued to chew.

"Not going to happen dear." He replied after swallowing.

"We Weasley's have stomachs of" he began but she cut him off.

"Of steel, I know. Ron feels inclined to remind us of that quite often enough" she finished.

"Awe, there goes your entertainment," he smirked.

"What ever will I do" she said rolling her eyes.

"Tragic I know" Charlie grinned.

"Well as pleasant as the history of the Weasley stomach truly is" she laughed.

"I think I'm going to take a bath and floo Harry before the meeting"

"Floo is set up in the study. I think I'll grab another plate of mashed potatoes and get ready myself" he said.

"Another plate. Even steel has its limits Charlie. At this rate we won't have any leftovers." Hermione joked.

With his fork halfway to his mouth, Charlie paused.

"Leftovers. What are these leftovers you speak of?" he asked smirking.

"Point taken" she laughed as she headed toward the bathroom.

Harry stared at the two sheets of paper in front him; one was a summary, one a statement for everything that had been done during Hermione's apparent short stay at London General.

Still hoping that maybe he was seeing things that weren't there, he picked up envelope, looking at the upper right hand corner. The address was marked London General.

This had to be some kind of mistake. A mix up in the hospital billing department. Surely this happened more frequently then people thought.

Harry sighed. Chances of that were slim, he though grimly. Both the papers had her name on them. Hermione Jane Potter. He frowned to himself. If that part was right. Maybe they got the rest of it right too.

Harry realized he didn't even know the date of her supposed visit. Flipping back through the second page he skimmed looking for the date.

Once he found it, Harry gasped. The date he found told him he was at the Ireland game at the time of her visit. Yet if this was her bill, if Hermione had gone to the hospital while he was out of town why hadn't she said anything to him?

Either at the time or when he got back. And what the hell did this code mean, anyway?

He was staring at the bottom of the page which listed the letters DX followed by a mysterious group of letters, followed by numbers.

ICDA-23. What was that anyway? He had no clue only that it somehow tied in to whatever had made Hermione seek medical attention. And why not go to St. Mungo's instead of London General?

He knew somewhere in those numbers was the reason Hermione received the bill and he hated not knowing what it was. Since that day he saved her from a mountain troll she had never failed to confide in him. After ten years of friendship which included a marriage he didn't want to believe she started now.

Over the last week, he'd thought maybe the old Hermione was coming back. But it was the old Hermione who had kept this from him.

For all he knew, that might even be the reason behind this whole thing. Maybe it was an elaborate charade after all, to draw his attention away from whatever it was that involved this damn visit.

A grim expression creased his face.

Maybe Hermione was slipping away from him even before the accident. It was obvious that she was keeping secrets from him. Significant secrets.

Because if it was just a matter of sinus infection or some minor complaint that had gotten out of hand, he thought, looking again at the papers, she would have told him about it. This happened a little more than two weeks before her accident. Before she conveniently "forgot" him.

She would have been perfectly able to talk to him about the visit. Unless it was something she was trying to keep from him.

Harry expression was grimmer than ever as he sat staring at the wall. He needed to find out what this code meant. His first reaction was to call the billing department of London General, but it was after six. They were probably closed.

If he didn't find another way to get the information, he'd have no choice but to call them tomorrow. That meant waiting until morning.

He felt antsy already.

Then it hit him. Seamus would know. Walking quickly to the desk, he found a parchment and quill, jotting down the series of numbers and letters in such a hurry, he wondered if Seamus would even be able to read it.

Without giving any specific details away, he merely asked what the code meant and sent it along with Hedwig. In no time he hoped he had his answer.

When his name was called, he was so completely lost in thought that it took a second for the sound and its significance to register.

Merlin help him. He was in no mood to civil.

Even though he didn't feel like it, Harry headed out toward the living room.

"Harry, are you there?" he heard again.

Entering the room, he fairly barked out a "Yes?" as he headed for the fireplace.

"Harry? Is that you?"

Her voice, like smooth, warm Firewhiskey, curled into his mind. But his feelings of betrayal, of bewilderment were hard to work through. It was all he could do not to let the bitterness out.

"Yes, it's me." He said spotting her face in the fire.

"Are you alright, Harry?" she asked. "You sound strange."

_For once I have a reason,_ he thought, staring down at the floor.

"According to you, I'm a stranger, so sounding strange would be normal."

He saw her pause and wondered if it was the end of it, and the beginning of the end of them, she pressed on.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she asked.

_Nothing, I hope. Everything, probably_. But this wasn't something they could talk about over a floo call. And to be completely fair to her, he wasn't sure just what it was they _were_ actually talking about, other than her lack of trust.

Maybe it was nothing and she didn't want to worry him. He knew how independent she was. It was a good excuse, but somehow, it rang hollow for him.

"Nothing," he finally said, lying. "I just don't like knocking around in this big house without you."

Hermione sighed. She knew his attitude was due to her sudden disappearing act. She knew he'd planned to come home and spend time with her. Since his letter this morning, she was looking forward to it herself.

No one was as disappointed about this as she was.

"I know what you mean. I'm sorry about this, Harry, I really am. But this came up at the last minute and I had no choice."

Before they'd gotten married, he made her a promise that he would never interfere with her working. He knew she needed to work, needed to be exactly who and what she was.

But what about the other promises, promises they both made? Like never to lie to each other. Or keep secrets?

Harry struggled hard to keep his temper under control.

"It's your job." He said with a shrug.

He'd fairly growled out the words to her and she sighed.

"You don't sound very convincing," she said

Harry blew out a breath as he dragged a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, well, I had a long day."

And then, instead of ending the floo or just continuing small talk, she blew him away by saying

"I miss you."

There was some laughing behind her. She was probably getting ready to leave for the meeting. Due to the increasing laughter, he was sure he misheard her.

"What?"

Hermione raised her voice.

"I said I miss you," she repeated, "I have to stay in London over night but expect me back by noon."

Harry simply nodded, not trusting himself too do anything else.

"I wish I was there with you." She said smiling.

He wished he could believe her. But now he didn't know if he could ever believe her again.

"Yeah, me too." He said.

He heard her laugh and tried not to let it weaken him.

"Someone is going to have to do something about the romantic way you talk, Harry. You just sweet-talk a girl right off her feet."

Harry frowned at the teasing tone. He was in no mood to let her wrap him around her little finger.

"I'm a doer not a talker." He replied.

He saw her grin as she replied.

"Amen to that. Look, I'll be back around noon. Can you knock off of practice? I'd like to make it up to you."

Her sultry voice when she said the last sentence caused his imagination to take flight. He struggled to hold it down.

"What about work?' he asked her

If she noticed his cool tone, she gave no signs.

"Neville's letting me have the day off. He will take my reports." she explained.

"What about the files?" he asked next.

"Nothing I can't handle the next day Harry, trust me everything will be fine." She assured him.

Harry watched as she turned her head and spoke to someone next to her.

"Looks like its time to go now." She said.

She hesitated before taking her next plunge. Since he was her husband, she was jumping with a safety net in place.

"Keep the bed warm for me, Harry" she grinned.

He thought about the other night when they made love and a smile crept out, despite the negative thoughts plaguing him.

"No need, you'll heat it up yourself once you get here."

Her laugh, soft and low, echoed in his head long after they disconnected the floo.

Harry glanced at the bill once again. Maybe it was all just a big misunderstanding. Maybe he was letting himself get worked up for no reason because of the unstable situation he was in.

Maybe just maybe he was creating all these dark scenarios when it was all perfectly innocent.

Hermione had to admit as she followed Charlie and the rest of the meeting attendees that the ideas for the new care of dragons were some of the best she had seen.

She hoped that the magical world would begin to notice the unfair treatment that came to so many creatures. Little by little she was making it better for all of them.

With this new report, she was sure to get the Minister's approval. And with the new laws in affect, she would have truly done a wondrous thing for everyone.

"We're coming up on the dragons, Hermione." Charlie said pointing to the left of the field.

Taking his hand, Hermione gasps as the dragons came into view.

"Their cool, aren't they?" Charlie whispered.

"No," she whispered back. "Their magnificent"

Charlie nodded. "There isn't a day I don't like my work".

After the group settled around the fence they observed the new plans in effect. Hermione clearly approving of the treatment the dragons were shown.

"The next one is the sedation medicine." Charlie informed her.

"This makes it easier to subdue the dragon if needed, without any harm to the dragon itself."

Seeing how she was fixed on the process he smiled.

"We can get closer you know. That is if you want to" He told her.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah, come on. We'll cut through the fence here and get a better view. Might even make your report" he winked.

They were just getting prepared for the sedation, when the man tripped spooking the dragon.

Hermione jumped back to avoid the dragon's wing but was sent flying back when the tail whipped around to the right.

Before she could even register what happened Charlie was scooping her up in his arms.

"Hermione, you okay" he asked. His eyes shining with worry and relief.

"Just a little winded, but yeah." She replied lightly.

Her chest felt a little sore but it was nothing she couldn't handle. Charlie eased her down till she was standing on her own.

She smiled noticing he still had hold of her arm.

"Charlie, I can stand. I'm okay." She assured him again.

"No way, I'm not taking any chances. I'm taking you straight to St. Mungo's to have you checked out." He quickly waved down another member of their group.

"St. Mungo's is not necessary Charlie. I'm fine I told you." She stressed.

"Hermione, that dragon hit you straight across your chest, sent you nearly ten feet away. I want to hear it from a healer." He argued.

"St. Mungo will only make a big deal about me. I don't want that. Besides they will alert Harry and I don't want him worried for nothing." She countered.

"He seemed tired when we spoke earlier. And it really is nothing."

Sighing Charlie looked over her.

"I understand what you're saying but I still want you checked out. If you don't want to go to St. Mungo's at least let me take you to London General." He said.

"It's only around the corner and it will make me feel at ease."

Hermione didn't want to go to the hospital, but Charlie seemed pretty intent on taking her. For his sake she agreed.

"Fine, I'll go but no more fretting afterwards deal" she said.

"Deal" he agreed.

Hermione knew the drill of muggle hospitals having been to a few during her childhood. So when she gave her name to the receptionist, she was surprised to find out her information was already in the system.

She had no memory of coming to London General before. Why didn't she remember? Now she felt uneasy but did her best to hide that fact from Charlie.

"Mrs. Potter, you can come back now" the nurse called from the door. Hermione squeezed Charlie's hand before following her back.

Once she made her way back the eerie feeling of déjà vu shimmied along Hermione's spine the moment she crossed the doorway and walked into the hospital room behind the nurse.

She couldn't remember being here. Yet she had to have been. Where else could this feeling be coming from? Besides, her name was already in their database. So she had to have been here before.

It didn't come back to her. And yet…

Hermione was hardly aware of the doctor entering the room as she sat down. Searching for something to trigger her memory. But when he said something to her about how surprised he was to see her again, Hermione looked at the young man sharply.

"You've seen me here before?" she asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Potter." He opened her chart. "I was the doctor on call the last time you came in." And then he gave her a small smile.

"With what happened and all, I guess it is something one prefers not to dwell on" he added.

Frustration set in. Before the accident, she had complete recall, about people, places, and events. Now it was like she stood at a blank wall.

Except now it seemed to have added a section.

She looked around as the doctor continued to glance over her chart. There was nothing she could recall about being here. And yet, this uncomfortable feeling that she had been here before haunted her

"When was that?" she pressed on.

She needed some kind of timeline. Maybe that would help her zero in on what else she forgot besides Harry.

The doctor didn't even have to pause to think.

"Just a month and a half ago." Setting the chart down, he looked at her with concern.

Hermione noticed his look and decided to drop it for now before he thought she was losing her mind. Even though she had to question that right about now.

"Now it says here you fell and banged your chest quite hard." He said.

"Yeah, I'm quite clumsy at times" she said feeling annoyed at the fact she had to portray herself in such an embarrassing manner.

"Okay, let me have a look at you" the doctor said.

After checking her over the doctor wrote a few things down in the chart and turned to her.

"I want a few more tests run on you and then we will see what we got. You seem to be okay but I would like to double check."

Hermione nodded, lying back on the bed.

She had just returned from x-rays and blood work and now set waiting for the doctor to return. Standing in the middle of the room, Hermione slowly looked around at her surroundings.

What was it about it that made her feel so uncomfortable? What was she feeling that her mind wouldn't let in? As if she was waiting for something to happen.

There was doubt in her mind that she had been here before. Had something happened in here that her mind hadn't wanted to deal with? And did it have anything to do with Harry?

Merlin she wished she knew.

Was she ever going to remember any of it, much less everything?

Hermione sighed. She absolutely hated dealing with mental gap. She'd always been the type to want to know everything. Answers to every question she came across, the bottom line to rumors, everything. Now the biggest mystery she had ever encountered in her life had to do with her and she had not a single clue.

The knock at the door brought her from her thoughts as she watched the doctor enter her room. She studied his face, sighing with relief when it seemed to be a pleasant expression.

"Well, Mrs. Potter. The entire test came back okay. You got lucky. Seems the fall only caused some slight bruising on your ribs. Nothing a little rest couldn't fix."

"Thank you doctor, I assured everyone I was fine. But they insisted." She chuckled.

"And everything seems to be well with baby too. You'd be surprised how much the womb can protect a fetus on impact." He added.

"That's a" she paused.

"The what?" she gasped clearly taken back.

Now it was the doctor's turn to express confusion.

"The baby" he repeated.

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to rid herself of the dizzy feeling that now clouded her senses.

"I'm not pregnant Doctor." Hermione quickly corrected.

"It showed up on the blood test" He confirmed.

"I assumed when you had the sonogram, you knew about it." He added.

"I assure you I knew nothing of the sort" Hermione whispered. "I figured it was standard procedure"

Smiling the doctor gave her arm a little squeeze.

"My apologies Mrs. Potter, had I known I would have surely broken it to you in a gentler manner."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She was pregnant. By a husband she couldn't remember. What would Harry say? Would he be happy?

Hermione looked up through teary eyes trying her best to keep the tears at bay.

"Am I okay to leave" she asked sounding strained.

"Everything checks out, so I don't see why not. Just make sure you rest tonight. And set an appointment for a check-up as soon as possible." He explained writing on her chart.

"The nurse will bring you your papers and then you're free to go. I'll send the gentlemen who accompanied you back here to wait."

Hermione didn't trust her voice, so she nodded as the door shut softly.

Momentarily defeated, Hermione sunk down on the bed beside her clothes and covered her face with her hands. How on earth was she going to tell Harry?

Everything seemed to be slipping out of place for her. An accident, then no memory of her husband, now a baby.

With an exasperated sigh, Hermione glanced at her watch. It was already midnight. She needed to get some sleep. She had doubts it would come easy with everything that happened.

Opening the plastic bag, she took out her clothes and begin to dress herself. She pulled down her shirt causing her hand to fall across her belly.

Gently placing her hand there she closed her eyes. She could hardly believe it. A baby. Her baby, Harry's baby. A small smile graced her mouth as she looked down.

Through the doubts and fear, she swore she felt a small glimmer of excitement. Hope. Maybe this was a new beginning for them. One that will bring them closer and give them the needed step to move forward.

It had to be. A baby was a miracle and it was exactly what she needed right now.

Hermione quickly wiped her eyes, as someone knocked. She knew it was Charlie. She dried her eyes with her sleeve, in hopes that he wouldn't sense anything was wrong.

"Hey kiddo, everything okay." He asked coming in.

Hermione smiled, "Of course, I told you I was fine. Had to go big brother on me." She chuckled.

"Only doing my job" he defended with a laugh.

Thirty minutes later, Hermione was back at Charlie's lying down. Charlie insisted she head straight to bed as the doctor ordered. Tossing again she knew it was pointless. She couldn't get the thoughts of the baby out of her head. Not to mention, she still had no idea how she was going to break this to Harry.

Considering they had never discussed children, at least from what she could recall. Hermione wasn't exactly sure how he would react. Part of her said he would be okay. Happy even, yet some small part refused to believe that.

Groaning she turned over again and closed her eyes. She needed to sleep. Needed a clear head to sort this all out in the morning. After all one certainly didn't want to blank when informing their husband about a baby.

Harry set down his plate for the fifth time. For someone who was hungry he hardly touched his stew. His world was getting too damn complicated. First his wife forgets him and now secrets. It had been three hours since he sent the note to Seamus and still no response.

After watching the window awhile, he felt as if he was going cross-eyed. He had to find something to do. Anything to keep his mind off of waiting.

He decided to clean out the study. Finally, nearly half an hour later, he found Hedwig sitting on the desk.

It must have taken him a second to reach the owl and take the letter. Hopefully Seamus had an answer for him. Opening the letter with quickness Harry began to read it.

When he did, he wished he hadn't.

Seamus's response cut through him like a knife, taking his very breath. Harry double checked over the letter again. Praying it wasn't right.

But no matter how many times he checked the answer remained unchanged. Seamus wouldn't pull his strings.

The answer didn't change. They remained the same. The pit of his stomach twisted, making him feel ill.

When he could feel his legs again, Harry stood up and went to the desk. He began opening drawers, rifling through them until he located her address book. She kept all emergency numbers in that book.

This constituted an emergency.

He thought back to their earlier conversation. There was affection in her voice.

He couldn't help wondering now just how much of that had been genuine, and how much of it had been faked. Because if the letter he was holding was true, and there was no reason for him to believe it wasn't, then she couldn't love him.

Not if she'd done this without telling him about it.

Damn it, he was her husband. He had a right to know this kind of thing.

An ugly reason reared its head as to why she'd deliberately kept him in the dark, but Harry refused to entertain it, refused to even recognize it. Because if he did, then he knew it was the beginning of the end for them.

For him.

**Wow, this was a long one. Please review. Good or bad please review. Hope you guys still like the story. **

**Bra4goten**


	10. secrets exposed

**Thank you all who reviewed chapter 9. I'm glad so many of you enjoyed it. Please remember to review good or bad. I always enjoy reading what you guys think.**

**Chapter 10- Secrets exposed**

Harry sighed as he sat down on the sofa. Accepting this reason would signal the death knell of their marriage far more effectively and quickly than her selective memory loss. He could ride that out. He didn't think he could ride out discovering that she'd been unfaithful to him.

Maybe he was being a fool about that, he thought.

Maybe she didn't even have a memory loss. Maybe all that was just her way of creating a diversion. Anger filled in all the available vacant spots inside him.

He wanted to talk to the Seamus about that night. Even though he had no doubts to what he replied, he needed to hear it straight out.

Grabbing up the pages, Harry walked to the fireplace. Once the women finished greeting him, he asked to speak to Seamus.

"I'm sorry, healer Finnigan is with a patient right now, May I take a message?" she asked.

"No," he snapped after she finished.

"I do not want to leave a message. This is Harry Potter and I need to speak to him as soon as possible"

"This is an emergency" he added.

The woman's voice filled with sympathy. "What kind of emergency?"

"I'd rather speak to him." He answered curtly.

It was clear the woman didn't know whether to believe him or not. Uttering a sigh, she promised to see what she could do. And then the line went dead.

As dead as Harry felt inside.

Moving away from the fireplace Harry went back to sitting on the sofa. Staring at the bill and the parchment that represented the diagnosis he didn't want to accept.

Fragments of conversations he'd had with Hermione both before he'd left for Ireland and after he'd returned, played themselves over in his head.

She knew how he felt. How could she have done this?

_For any reason?_

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A long sigh of relief escaped Hermione's lips as she made her way to the apperation point of the ministry.

Finally!

After putting her wand in her robes, she turned toward her leaving point with her house in mind. The past twenty-four hours had been interminable, at least three times longer than a normal day.

The previous night's tossing and turning hadn't exactly helped matters. Ordinarily she could drop off the second her head hit the pillow if she was tired.

She could not get the previous night's events out of her mind. Normally not too much made her uncomfortable. But something about that hospital had been different.

After the doctor confirmed her previous visit, she felt there was something in that room, waiting for her to discover it.

Waiting for her to remember.

Like being there before, she thought cryptically. Now that was the problem, she _still_ couldn't remember being there, yet by all accounts she had been.

There was no reason for the doctor to lie about treating her before, or for the hospital having her information already stored in their system.

What had happened in that hospital that was bothering her so much now?

Hermione kept a pattern all night, falling partially asleep, only to think that there were people in her room, crowding around her bed, talking, sometimes to her, sometimes to each other. And all the while, amid the noise, there was all these bright lights shining down on her.

Wry amusement had Hermione shaking her head as she began to apperate. If she had told that part to anyone, about feeling as if there were people in her room, prodding at her beneath bright lights, they'd probably think she was babbling about being the subject of an alien abduction.

Hermione sighed. Damn she felt drained now. After her unsettling night, she went straight to the ministry almost completely exhausted.

She gave her statements to Neville, said her goodbyes and headed home. Hermione pushed thoughts of her princess in the pea type night out of her mind and concentrated on the present.

Finally she was home.

She smiled. Thinking of that drafty, hulking structure, which looked as if it was straight out of something that would have enticed the Adam's family, as home.

She was finally making progress in the right direction. Now she only hoped her news wouldn't put a stop in her trip.

Before Hermione entered the house, she left her hand fall to her belly. She still couldn't believe she was having a baby. Now all that was left was to tell Harry.

Merlin knew she was eager to see Harry. She still didn't remember being his wife, but she was beginning to understand why she had married the man in the first place.

And why she would do it again, if it should ever come to that.

Despite the fact that she'd left the Ministry dead tired, Hermione could feel her body quickening as she opened the door. She mentally crossed her fingers that Harry was able to get out of practice.

Hermione breathed in a breath of relief. She was finally home.

And so was he, she thought in triumph as she noticed his practice gloves and goggles on the kitchen counter.

Hermione could feel her nerves jumpstart as she allowed her hands to fall to her belly one last time before she told him.

Truth be told she was scared. This would add to the already stressful life they were living at the moment. But she was happy.

She prayed he shared her feelings.

Moving through the kitchen, she called out. "Harry, I'm home"

The words had a familiar ring to them. She'd done this before, called out his name as she entered the house. Maybe the night she'd spent in the hospital was indirectly making things come back to her.

She certainly hoped so.

"Harry?" she called again when there was no answer. "Where are you?"

Standing right outside the doorway, she could see into three rooms. His practice gear was in the kitchen and there were lights on in the house. He had to be here.

Harry felt his whole body tense up at he sound of her voice. He'd been waiting for her to come home ever since last night.

Over the past twenty-four hours, he'd run the gamut of emotions, going from furious to confused to heartbroken and back again in no particular order but with almost breathtaking speed.

Emotions still ran through him, moving at speeds beyond his control. And blanketing them was this overwhelming sense of betrayal. He had loved this woman, married this woman, spent ten years as her best friend and apparently didn't know her at all.

It had to be because the Hermione he thought he knew wouldn't have done this. At least, not without talking to him first.

He'd had finally gotten through to Seamus last night claiming to need the information for a friend. Seamus explained the diagnosis to him fully before he ended the call. He barely murmured goodbye.

He felt as if his soul had suddenly become ground zero for an all consuming forest fire. Everything, _everything_ felt dead inside.

He'd gone to practice despite the fact that his mind really wasn't on catching a snitch. He forced himself through the motions, hoping to somehow find a way to deal with this sense of betrayal. To somehow find a way to forgive Hermione.

In his heart, because he loved her, he knew he would have forgiven her for anything. If only she had come to him. But she hadn't. And then the accident had wiped him clear out of her mind.

What did that say?

That he was less than nothing to her? That despite ten years of friendship and a marriage it boiled down to lies and nothing more?

Now it seemed there was nothing left between them but fantastic sex.

It wasn't enough, not for him.

His body felt like lead now as he walked toward the front of the house. Toward her. The woman he no longer knew.

"Harry?" Hermione called out again, beginning to get worried.

Where was he?

She didn't hear any noise, so he wasn't doing anything that could be blocking out the sound of her voice.

Tossing her stuff onto the table, she started toward the stairs. Maybe he was in their bedroom and didn't hear her.

But then she saw him coming toward her from the back of the house. She could feel the smile blossoming on her face, feel it from the inside as well as on her lips.

She hadn't realized until this second how much she'd really missed him. How much she couldn't wait to tell him about the baby.

Or especially how much she was looking forward to tonight.

"There you are." She said moving toward him, her arms out.

All she wanted was to hug him and be hugged by him.

"I was beginning to think you wanted to play hide-and-seek when I have some great news to share."

She grinned.

"No," he told her, his voice deadly still. "I don't want to play at all."

The smile dropped and she stopped just short of touching Harry. Her arms dropped to her sides as she stared at him. From out of nowhere, fear came rushing to her heart. Every nerve in her body tightened.

She could almost feel the skin under her bushy hair tingling. In a very bad way.

Hermione searched his face for a clue and found none. Only that he was shutting her out. Why? She'd been away for only one day, what had gone on here in that time?

Her head started to ache.

"Harry?" she said slowly, trying desperately to smile, to tell herself that everything was all right.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

His emerald eyes were frosted as they looked at her.

"You tell me." He countered.

Like someone trapped in the middle of an ongoing nightmare, Hermione shook her head in what felt like slow motion. She didn't know how much more of this confusion she could take.

Was this some kind of psychological game he was playing with her? Had she let up her guard only to fall for someone who was emotionally abusive?

No, he wasn't like that. She would bet her life on it. There had to be some kind of logical explanation why he'd gone from Dr Jekyll to Mr. Hyde.

"I don't know what you mean? She said.

She tried to soften her voice, to sound as if she wasn't worried, only curious,

"Harry, what's going on?"

Maybe he should just walk out now, before his temper erupted. Before he shouted at her, demanding to know how she could have just thoughtlessly thrown away a life like this.

But he didn't go. He stayed there, right where he was. Maybe, against all odds and reason, there was a tiny shred of him that hoped she could still save the situation. Still make it right somehow by giving him a reason that made sense. Though he couldn't see his way clear as to what that reason could be.

"Struggling to keep everything bottled up, Harry pulled out the bill he stuffed in his pocket, shook it open and held it out to her.

"Maybe this is the great news you wanted to tell me?' he spat.

Looking confused Hermione shook her head. "No, it has to do"

"Doesn't matter" he cut in.

"Does this look familiar to you?" he asked.

Hermione stared at the bill blankly, but made no move to take it in her hand. Afraid that if she did it would cause something awful to happen.

What was it he was accusing her of? And why had he convicted her without a trail? She raised her chin defiantly. Anything she had felt for him only moments ago iced over, including telling him about the baby.

"No," she answered crisply. "Why should it?"

"Let me give you a hint."

He watched her face, waiting for a crack in her veneer. She was good, he thought. She was acting as if she didn't know what he was talking about. But she did. Too many things fell together for this to be some kind of gross mistake.

"It's a bill. From the hospital." He explained.

Why was he carrying on about that? It didn't make any sense,

"So St. Mungo's mailed the bill to us instead of sending it to the vault. So what? These things happen from time to time "

"Not St. Mungo's Hermione" he corrected, pointing to the top of the page where the hospital's address was written.

"London General."

"London General?" she echoed.

It couldn't be. Surely they would not have sent it out that fast

"But …I," she began

But even as she went to explain, some feeling uncoiled in her brain. She resisted, inwardly afraid even as she retained her bravado.

Harry waited as she seemed to struggle with herself to find her voice. He figured when she found it she would tell him it was a mistake. If only she knew how much he wished he could believe that. But it was too late. He'd verified it with Seamus.

"Before you claim it a mistake Hermione, there is no doubts to you being there."

"Harry, I admit this seems strange" Hermione began again.

He saw the confusion in her eyes.

_Give it up, Hermione. I found you out. Found out your secret._

"They've got all your information right. Your name, your birthday, our address." He indicated each line as he spoke.

"The timing is right, too. It was while I was away at the Ireland game." He added.

She stared at the sheet like someone in a trance. This had to be the other visit she couldn't remember. It had to be.

"Harry, I don't remember." She told him

Because his heart was still breaking, he shouted at her.

"Hermione, that's getting old. You remember everything, but me and now this. It's too convenient, don't you think?"

Hermione grabbed the paper from him, almost tearing it. She scanned it quickly, but her brain was under siege. It took her several seconds to separate the lines and focus on the individual charges.

What jumped out at her was that there was a charge for the use of the emergency room and for surgical supplies.

Wait a minute she had surgery performed on her.

Hermione looked up at him, a helplessness pulling her under for the third time. Nothing was making sense.

"Harry, this is a nightmare, I swear I don't" she paused. "Wait what are these numbers?" she asked suddenly seeing them. This had to be the key to her previous visit to London General.

He took a breath, afraid his voice would crack.

"That's you diagnosis"

He sounded so odd, so distant. She'd never heard him like this. Something inside of her scrambled fore high ground, for safety. But there was none. She searched for anger to draw on, but even that was deserting her.

"What does it say I had?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. He hated this. They were supposed to be a couple, a team of two, not

opponents. But she had done that to them.

"Don't play dumb, Hermione"

At his words, something inside of her broke.

"I am _not_ playing dumb," she shouted at him

"Don't you think I'd say something if I could remember?" She added.

And then she stopped abruptly as an idea came to her. They were supposed to have had an opened relationship.

"Didn't I tell you why I went to the hospital, when you came back from Ireland?"

Was she toying with him now? Was that it?

Harry found that he really had to struggle to hold on to his temper. He felt almost mortally wounded.

"No you didn't say a word about it. When I came home, you just acted as if it was business as usual. You just looked a little pale around the edges," he recalled.

"In fact it was one of the reasons we made the trip to the field. I figured it was due to work. evidently, it was the strain of keeping secrets from me that was wearing on you"

"I didn't"

She began to shout a protest that she didn't keep secrets from him that she didn't know f she had any secrets to keep, but the word suddenly began to echo in her brain.

"Secrets," she repeated, not looking at him.

_Secrets._

She realized that the word had somehow been part of her semi dream as well.

Did she have secrets from him? If she did, they were secrets from her now, as well.

"Yes, Hermione. Secrets."

His mouth twisted into a grim expression.

"A pretty sterile word for what you did."

And then his temper, his hurt, finally erupted.

"Damn it, Hermione, why didn't you come to me before you did it? Why did you shut me out this way?"

Hermione was beyond confusion. She was completely dumbfounded.

"What way Harry?" she cried in exasperation.

"What is it that you think I did?"

How could she pretend not to know? You just didn't forget something like this, like a missed item on a grocery list.

"Hermione, you killed our baby." He choked out.

Her faced turned completely pale as she stared at him.

"That's impossible" she whispered.

"This code," he jabbed at the line with his index finger, "it stands for termination of pregnancy. That was our baby you just swept out of your life. You didn't event think enough of it, or _me_, to let me know you were going to do it."

He pressed his lips together, trying to get under control. Remembering. They'd sat right there on that couch, with her dangling her bare feet over one upholstered arm, talking about the future. And he'd actually felt bad, telling her they were going to have to put on hold for a while having kids.

God, he'd been such a fool.

"You even had me going with that talk about wanting a family."

He looked at her accusingly. "What was that, your decoy plan?"

The room had suddenly gotten very hot. And the air in her lungs had vanished somehow. She found it was hard to focus.

"I didn't have a decoy plan. I don't know anything about this." She said trembling.

Sweat began forming along her upper lip, her lids, her hair line. Slipping down her spine.

"I …didn't…I'm…p"

Hermione couldn't finish, couldn't push any more words out of her mouth. She was too weak. She started to sway. Her knees felt as if they'd been dissolved, and she didn't have the strength to stand up anymore.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, his eyes showing concern.

She heard a voice. Harry's?

It was coming to her from a long distance away, as if whoever talking was standing on the other end of a long tunnel.

She couldn't see who it was.

Someone was grabbing her hand. Holding her upright. Even with support she couldn't stand. Everything was spinning.

The room was shrinking, its edges rapidly becoming outlined in black. What light there was around her was disappearing.

She tried to scream for help, but the cry became caught in her throat. The darkness swiftly devoured it before a sound could emerge.

And then the darkness came to claim her.

**There you guys have it Chapter 10. I know many of you are most likely mad at me for that ending. But have no fear; chapter 11 will be out sooner than you think. So until then please read and review. It makes me feel better…..And a big hug and thanks goes out to each and every one of you that reviewed for chapter 9…**

**Bra4goten**


	11. Finally Remembering

**I want to thank everyone for still reading after that ending I left you with. I'm sorry, but it had to be done. At least I think it did. Hope you enjoy the next chapter and as always please review. This will be the last chapter of this story. I will have an epilogue up real soon to tie everything up. Please review.**

**Chapter 11- Finally remembering**

Harry managed to catch her in his arms before she hit the floor.

"Hermione? Hermione?"

Leaning against him limply, Hermione didn't respond to the sound of his voice. Fear materialized in his chest, growing stronger by the second. His pulse racing, Harry's first thought was to call for help. But then he thought she might be better off if he took her to St. Mungo's himself.

Torn, he looked down at Hermione's face. She looked so pale, so frail. He was afraid that she'd had a relapse, or that maybe Seamus, despite all the fancy scans at St. Mungo's, still managed to miss something.

What if she had a tumor or a blood clot forming?

Damn it, why had he yelled at her like that?

Still holding Hermione in his arms, he forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. He had to think logically.

Maybe she just fainted.

Women fainted, right? He thought, silently asking himself the rhetorical question. No woman he'd ever known, certainly not Hermione, but he knew it did happen.

Maybe it did happen to Hermione. But did he dare risk it?

He was having trouble thinking straight. At this moment everything seemed completely pulled inside out, upside-down and thrown into another, not quite parallel, universe.

He looked at her again. She was breathing evenly. More evenly than he was, he thought. He felt on the verge of hyperventilating.

"I used to be calm before all of this," he told the unconscious woman.

Rather than play it by ear, he told himself to rush to St. Mungo's. Picking her up in his arms, Harry pictured the hospital and was gone.

Once he popped in the waiting lobby he rushed toward the front desk.

"I need help, something happened to my wife." He cried out.

The woman sighed before looking up; apparently she was used to people popping in screaming in panic.

Finally looking up, she noticed Hermione unconscious in his arms.

"Mr. Potter" she gasped standing up. "What happened to her" she asked.

"She fainted, I need to know where your first available room is?" he asked hurriedly.

"Room three, Mr. Potter. I'll get a healer immediately." She assured him quickly walking away.

"No, get me healer Finnigan" he spat as he made his way to room three.

Harry carried his wife over to the bed, yanking down the blanket as he balanced her against his body. He used one leg propped up against the bedside table to keep her in place. With the blanket pulled aside, he then laid her down, praying he didn't make a grave mistake in hesitating before bringing her here.

She still looked paler than snow, but her pulse felt stronger. That had to be a good sign. Right?

Her eyes remained closed as he watched her. He felt so helpless sitting there. Not knowing what was wrong with her, not knowing what to do to help her.

"Damn it, Hermione, you're tying me all up in knots. What's going on with you? With us?" he whispered, as he gently pushed her hair away from her face.

She felt clammy. A compress. She needed a compress.

Looking around the room, Harry had no earthly idea what to use for a compress. Spotting some paper napkins, Harry grabbed a handful.

After he ran them under cold water, he placed them gently across forehead. Taking her hand he brought it to his lips.

Where the hell was Seamus, he thought.

Seamus burst through the door as if the very question itself summoned him.

"Harry what happened." Seamus asked.

"We were talking and she just fainted" Harry explained.

Waving his wand over Hermione, Seamus raised his eyebrow.

"You were talking?" he asked skeptically.

Sighing, Harry sat down in the chair letting his head rest in his hands.

"More like yelling" he admitted.

Once he was finished looking her over Seamus turned his attention toward his friend.

"She is stable. Everything checks out, I think it's safe to say she just fainted. We'll give in a little while, she'll wake up soon."

Harry sighed in relief,

"Thank you Seamus. I was worried it was from the accident"

"I still want to run some test once she wakes up." Raising his hand at Harry's expression he added. "Just as a precaution."

"Harry, I thought I explained the need to refrain from stressful situations" he asked.

"You did. I know. I never intended on fighting with her Seamus." Harry sighed.

"Things just got complicated" he said, looking at Hermione's still form.

"By complicated, I'm assuming your talking about the letter you sent me?" Seamus asked.

"How'd you know?" Harry asked him after a minute.

"How'd I know? How could I not. Harry I receive a strange letter from you asking me to confirm some diagnosis." Seamus paused, placing his hands in his pockets.

"With Hermione's sudden memory loss, I sort of put two and two together." He continued.

Harry sighed, Seamus figured it out. He really didn't see the point in denying it now.

"I don't understand what happened to us. We've always been close. Then the accident came, and I have been trying so hard to keep us together."

As he leaned against the counter he took a deep breath to steady himself. His emotions were getting the best of him again. He felt everything slipping away from him.

"Now this. Damn it Seamus, How much is one man supposed to take?" he cried gripping the counter top.

"Harry, you and Hermione can take anything that comes your way. That's the beauty in all of this."

Harry scoffed.

"I'm not so sure this time Finnigan. How does the couple of the century come back from all of this?"

"First by talking." Seamus told him. "Give her a chance to explain Harry"

"That is the..."

The door burst open.

"Healer Finnigan, Come quickly. Greta Hawknail is using spells again." The nurse cried.

Seamus sighed as he shook his head at Harry.

"Don't ask." He told him when he noticed his mouth opening.

"I'll be back in a few to check on Hermione. Remember what I said."

"Okay," Harry nodded heading back toward the bed.

"Hey Seamus" he called.

Turning around, Seamus stopped.

"Thanks" he said. "For everything"

"Hey, what are friends for?" Seamus grinned before hurrying out.

His fingers softly grazed her forehead, as she remained unconscious. He needed to get her a new compress. After grabbing two more napkins, he doubled them up, then dampened them.

Once he was back at her side, he placed the dripping compress on Hermione's forehead.

Her eyelashes fluttered. After a moment she stirred. When she finally opened her eyes, Harry felt as if he'd just been giving a stay of execution. It didn't matter what she'd done, what secrets she'd kept from him, he'd deal with it.

_They'd_ deal with it. Nothing mattered except that Hermione was in his life, mercurial, unpredictable, but his. And well.

Feeling slightly bewildered, Hermione tried to sit up. He gently pushed her back down onto the bed.

"Stay down." He ordered.

_This is where I came in_, she thought.

The thought came and went, making no sense to her. She took a shaky breath, feeling completely out of focus. Her head was killing her and there was something wet and clammy on her forehead.

"What happened?" she asked.

Her voice sounded so fragile, Harry thought, as doubts continued to plague him. Maybe he should call for Seamus. He certainly wasn't qualified to make judgments about her health.

"You passed out." He replied softly, doing his best to not appear nervous or worried.

Again she tried to sit up and he pressed his hand to her shoulder, pushing her down and trying to keep her still.

"I said stay down. I don't want you passing out again."

A very real feeling of déjà vu took hold, refusing to release her. He'd pushed her down like this before, told her not to sit up before. Not that long ago.

"Fainting," she corrected weakly.

She fought to keep her eyes open and the room from spinning again.

"Alcoholics pass out, I fainted."

The contrary statement brought a thin smile to his lips. Now that sounded like his Hermione.

"And you're back." Taking her hand, he sat down beside her, claiming just the edge of the bed.

When she tried to remove the makeshift compress from her forehead, he caught her wrist, stopping her. It was like dealing with a little kid, he thought.

An impatient, contrary little kid.

Merlin, help him he loved every contrary bone in her body.

"Harry, it's dripping," she protested when he caught her other hand to prevent her from snatching away the wet napkins.

The excess moisture had worked its way down her cheeks and hair and continued on its path.

"My shoulders are getting wet." With a resigned sigh, Harry removed the compress and dropped it on top of the side table

"You look a little bit better," he told her. "You've worked your way from Casper the friendly ghost and you're up to snow white."

It was meant to amuse her. Instead, he saw her eyes suddenly widened. He couldn't read her expression. Braced for anything, he hoped. He asked,

"What's the matter?"

Her heart slammed into her rib cage. She grasped his hand.

"I remember."

He told himself to be cautious, not to get his hopes up.

"Remember what? Why you went to London General?"

As soon as he sad it, a deep-rooted chill passed over her. The hospital. Oh, God, the hospital. She fought to keep the sob out of her voice. To keep a sense of horror at bay.

"Yes," she said quietly. "That and you."

Still he didn't want to jump to the conclusion he ached to embrace. Disappointment would be too overwhelming if he was wrong.

"Remember me how?"

Turning to look at him, her eyes filled with tears.

"In every way"

Memories came flooding back to her in no particular order, with no distinct rhyme or reason. It was as if she was standing in front of a dam and not just the floodgates but the very dam walls had broken.

The water came rushing at her, threatening to wash her out to sea.

Her fingers tightened on his hand, as if that would somehow help her brace herself.

Panic filled her voice.

"Harry."

He slipped his arm around her.

"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here." He whispered.

Even as he said it, he saw that she had started to cry. It was remorse, he thought. Remorse for what she'd done. Any anger he'd felt at the deed, at being shut out, all disappeared. He just wanted her to be alright again.

"Maybe I'd better call for Seamus." He said.

"No, no more doctors. Please," she begged.

That was what her weird dreams had been about since her visit to London General, she realized suddenly. She wasn't dreaming; she was remembering.

Remembering being in the operating room. They'd only given her a local, but everything had become unclear during the procedure.

Hermione held on to Harry, feeling hollow.

"I lost our baby."

"I know," he told her softly. Holding her close to him, he did his best to comfort her.

Hermione drew back, shaking her head. She knew what he thought. And he was wrong.

"No, no you don't," she cried.

"You don't understand. I lost it. My body aborted it. It was a miscarriage. I was in London, doing some shopping when I started bleeding. I was close to London General so I went there."

She paused as she stared off at the wall.

"I got there just in time to be too late. The baby was gone." She continued.

Her mouth twisted in self-mockery. "I thought I was so damn healthy."

When she looked at him, there was a bottomless sadness in her eyes.

"I've hardly been sick throughout my life." It didn't make any sense to her. "But I couldn't keep the baby."

Her words replayed themselves in his head.

"You miscarried?" Harry could only stare at her. "You didn't go in for an abortion?"

Everything inside her scrambled together, braced. Ready to mount a defensive. How could he think that about her?

"No!" she cried.

"Then why didn't you tell me?" he whispered.

It didn't matter if it didn't make any sense. What mattered was that Hermione had gone through all this alone, he thought.

He should have been there for her.

"Why didn't you tell me you lost the baby?" Another question quickly occurred to him in the wake of his first.

"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant? And how could you have been pregnant? We were careful."

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug she felt to drained to even complete. She remembered asking the doctor that same question.

"The doctor said these things happen. Chances are small, but they do happen."

So Hermione knew about his child, the doctor knew about his child. Harry struggled not to feel like an outsider in his own life.

"I still don't understand, Hermione. Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?"

Emotions welled up in her. Trying to keep a tight rein on herself, she hadn't allowed herself to mourn properly. She banked down tears now.

No, Tears wouldn't help.

"I tried Harry"

Was she having another memory lapse, he wondered.

"When?"

"That conversation I had with you about having kids."

She could see by his expression he needed a few minutes to recall it.

"That was supposed to be my way of segueing into telling you." She added.

Supposed to be, she thought. Except that it turned sour on her.

"But then you were so firm about waiting, about not wanting kids until you felt you could show them love."

Hermione closed her eyes, remembering his exact words.

"You said there was nothing wrong in waiting and that right now you were perfectly happy with it being just the two of us."

The sadness entered her eyes as she looked at him again.

"I tried to get you to change your mind by saying that maybe by the time you felt you were ready. I wouldn't be able to get pregnant. That the longer you wait to get pregnant, sometimes the harder it is."

Now he was beginning to understand, or at least to see it from her perspective. His own words came back to haunt him.

"And I said that if it was never more than just the two of us that would be okay with me."

He realized now how that had to have sounded to her.

"I said that for you, Hermione."

Maybe her brain was still foggy. She didn't understand. "For me?"

"In case things didn't go the way we planned when we were ready. I didn't want you to feel that you had to give me a baby." He explained.

He felt so helpless now, thinking of what she'd gone through. First believing he didn't want the baby she was carrying, then carrying the overwhelming sadness of the miscarriage by herself.

"You should have told me, you know. You shouldn't have had to face that by yourself." he told her.

She knew that now. But at the time she'd felt emotionally estranged from him, believing he didn't want the baby in the first place.

"I thought you'd be upset that I was pregnant. And then I lost the baby, I was afraid that you'd be relieved that our life wasn't going to change. I couldn't have stood that," she told him.

"It was easier just not telling you." She sighed.

How had signals gotten so confused between them? It felt as though misunderstanding had just built on misunderstanding. And then he thought of the way he'd wrapped himself up in his anger and accused her of having an abortion behind his back.

A rueful expression played on his lips.

"I'm sorry I went off like that. But when I saw that the code numbers meant termination of pregnancy…"

He'd jumped to a conclusion, she thought.

"You assumed I had an abortion." She looked at him, wondering if either one knew the other at all.

"How could you have thought that, knowing how I feel about kids?"

Harry dragged a hand through his hair. She was right. He should have known better, should have known she wasn't capable of that, certainly not without telling him first. But after everything that had happened, part of him had felt as if he didn't know anything at all.

"It hasn't exactly been a normal month and a half," he said.

"I felt cut out of your life because life with me was the only thing you couldn't remember. And then to find out that you were keeping things from me-"

"I thought you didn't want the baby." She repeated. "And when I lost it, I was really afraid you'd say something like, it was for the best, and then I'd wind up hating you. Harry I love you too much to risk something like that happening."

Fresh tears rose to her eyes, threatening to spill out.

"I guess in my mind I felt it was all so awful. When the accident happened, my brain seized the opportunity to wipe it all out of my mind."

Hermione looked at him.

"Including the father of my baby."

He forced a smile to his lips. "I guess that's as good an explanation as any."

Seamus had told him there were no easy solutions, nothing they could hold on to as gospel when it came to things like amnesia. He was just damn relieved that it was all behind them.

Harry gathered her to him again. Part of him felt reluctant to ever let her go again. He knew that, given her independent streak, saying as much would probably go over like a lead balloon. So he just held her and was grateful.

"I just wish I could have been there for you and the baby." Harry sighed hugging her.

Hermione stiffened. The baby. She never got to tell him before they fought. Now she understood why it felt like a miracle.

A month and a half ago she lost their baby. Now she was pregnant again. They had a second chance.

"Sure you're up for it?" she asked several minutes later.

"Up for what?' he asked, not really sure what she meant.

She smiled into his chest at his clueless nature before she gave voice to his question.

"Being there for me and the baby." And then she raised her face to his. "Harry I'm pregnant."

It was several minutes before he could find his voice. "Pregnant" he finally pushed out.

"That was the news I wanted to share with you this morning" she told him softly.

"How long?" he whispered.

"A few weeks" she said.

"I guess we made more than just new memories"

"Are you sure. You're really having a baby?" he was stunned. Were they really getting a second chance to start over?

"Last night I was taken to London General. They confirmed it. I was surprised myself."

"What happen last night?" she noticed he jumped from shock to concern in seconds and smiled.

"Everything is okay. Just a little mishap with a dragon." She explained.

"A little mishap with a dragon, Hermione. Explain."

"The dragon got spooked. When it turned, I was hit by the tail. Nothing too extreme. Charlie made sure I got checked out."

"And"

"And turns out I have some mild bruising and a baby on the way." She grinned as she clumsily spread her hand over her flat belly.

"We're having a baby Harry. I know you said you wanted to."

"Stop right there." He said placing his finger over her lips.

"I know what I said. But I want you to know that I'm ready for this baby. This is our second chance Mione."

He paused, taking a deep breath before he continued.

"I didn't get the chance with our first child and I'm not about to let that happen again. You are the most important thing to me. Without you or this baby I'm..."

Hermione didn't bother fighting back the tears as they flowed down her face.

"What are you saying Harry?" she asked, hope rising in her chest.

"What I'm trying to say and very inarticulately I may add, is that I want a family Hermione." He answered.

"Oh, Harry" she cried as she threw herself into his arms.

They were really going to do this.

"Seamus said he would still like to run some test before you're free to go" he told her as his hand gently rested on her flat tummy.

"No, I've had enough of hospitals for a while." She sighed.

"But I wouldn't mind if you wanted to play doctor and check me out." She giggled.

Instead of agreeing the way she'd expected him to, she saw Harry frown as he looked at her.

"Are you sure you're up to that?"

More than up to it, she thought. She _needed _it. Needed to feel for a moment that there was nothing else in this world but pleasure.

"Don't treat me like a fragile doll, Harry. It's all I've been thinking about since yesterday morning after you left for work."

He looked at her in surprise. "What, making love with me?"

She nodded. "That and coming home to you."

She smiled at the sound of that. Home. This falling apart building she found herself living in with Harry was home. Harry was home.

He had missed seeing her smile. That smile of self deprecation that only he got to see.

"I guess I fell faster for you the second time around," she said.

_Yes! _Something inside him cheered. Outwardly he tried to remain the picture of calmness.

"Practice makes perfect."

Well, that wasn't exactly what she'd thought she'd hear.

"How about you?" she prodded.

Harry looked at her with an innocent expression.

"How about me what?"

"Why did you stick around?"

Hermione realized she meant the question seriously. Another man would have said a few choice words and left, wife or no wife. Yet he had stuck it out.

"I was pretty horrible there for a while." She sighed.

There wasn't even a hint of smile on his lips as he deadpanned.

"And this would be different from your normal behavior how?"

Immediately Harry hardened his muscles, knowing what was coming. The next second, Hermione's doubled up fist made contact with his biceps. Hard.

Harry was surprised. The blow actually stung. Apparently, she hadn't lost any of her strength during this ordeal.

"Hey, I thought you were supposed to be weak," Harry protested. "That hurt."

Try as she may, Hermione couldn't keep back the laughter.

"It was supposed to. Apparently you're the weak one." She laughed.

Leaning down toward her stomach Harry sighed.

"If you can hear me little one you're father is not weak. No matter how many times mummy says it."

Hermione grinned. Merlin it felt good to be back. Good to banter with him. To think of him as her soul mate. Her best friend as well as her lover.

"Maybe its just mummy's superwoman strength returning."

Harry didn't return her banter. Instead he looked at Hermione for a long moment, searching her face, still worried about what he might find there. But his Hermione was back. The old Hermione. The one he pledged before god and a handful of people to always remain faithful to.

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After an hour of waiting, Seamus finally told them Hermione was free to return home.

They were both sitting in the living room enjoying the quiet normality in their life again.

"So you remember?" he finally asked.

She beamed at him, so very relieved to finally be out of the fog. To be able to look at Harry and remember him beyond the moment she'd opened her eyes on the ground of the field.

"I remember." she told him.

"Everything?" he prodded carefully.

She placed her hand in the middle of his chest, delighted in the soft, rhythmic sound his heart was making. His heart belonged to her more than her own did.

She raised her hand as if she was taking a pledge.

"Every last sexy bit," she swore.

She dropped her hand to her belly as she continued.

"Right down to the fact that I married a really terrific guy who sticks by me no matter how loopy I get."

He didn't want to waste time talking about himself. That only embarrassed him. He was far more interested in securing a promise from her.

"No more secrets?"

"No more secrets, Harry," she said seriously. "That goes for you too, you know."

"I know." He nodded.

It hit him that he had come close to losing her, not once but twice. And the first way would have left him alone with so many questions.

She could almost feel him thinking. Could almost feel his eyes as they glided along her skin.

"What?" she asked.

Instead of answering her immediately, he surprised her by kissing her forehead. Leaning back, Harry pulled her onto his lap and laced his fingers together around her shoulders,

"I love you." he said.

Due to the difficult life he lived, he didn't actually say it that often. Actually he hardly ever said it at all. While she knew in her heart he loved her, she'd heard the words from him three, maybe five times in all the time they'd been together, while she said it so often, she'd lost count.

It made his declaration very, very special.

"I love you too, Harry."

Harry shifted his weight, then slipped his hands beneath her legs and back and rose with her in his arms. Feeling almost giddy, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Let the games begin," she laughed.

"No, no games," he told her.

She sobered. Had she misinterpreted the signs again?

"You're not just going to put me to bed, are you?" she whined.

His mouth formed a hint of a smile.

"That's part of the plan."

Something about the way he said it caused her to silence the protest on her lips.

"What's the other part?"

"I figured I would show my wife just how much I missed her." Was his reply.

Hermione giggled as they made their way up the stairs.

**There you have it guys. The final chapter. I will be posting an epilogue in the next few days. Please review good or bad. I really don't know if I did this last chapter any justice. I hope you all liked the closing. Let me know and keep a look out for the epilogue.**


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